


Forsaken

by Trishields



Series: Haunted [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Adult Content, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Bathroom Sex, Biting, Blood and Gore, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Forsaken, Gay, Gay Sex, Hair-pulling, Homosexuality, Love, M/M, Multi, Multiple Pairings, Multiple Relationships, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Omnic Crisis, Oral Sex, Post-Talon Widowmaker | Amélie Lacroix, Redemption, Romance, Rough Sex, Sequel, Team Talon (Overwatch), War, haunted, trish shields
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 17:38:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 93,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15296625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trishields/pseuds/Trishields
Summary: An official sequel to the fanfiction Haunted. No one could have predicted this. The world shakes in the wake of the last year's polarizing events. The renowned Talon Operative, Reaper, has abandoned his former comrades and has joined the ranks of Overwatch. Least of all to expect this betrayal was Widowmaker herself. Taken from her home, away from everything that she knew and cared for, Amélie Lacroix has been twisted into a weapon. A weapon, she reminds herself, who belongs to Talon. After Reaper's departure, Amélie is left to her own devices as the world reels in the wake of the war that has erupted, not only between Talon and Overwatch, but with a new Omnic Faction as well who threaten humanity as a whole. She will have to pick a side. Her family, or her memory? The world wants a hero... And Gabriel wants to be one... Doesn't he? Is it even possible? As he battles the physical war between man and machine, his mind is overwhelmed with inner turmoil- questions he asks, but isn't sure he wants the answers to. How will they find peace in all of this madness?  Will fate allow he and Jack to stay together after all they’ve been through, after all they’ve done?What’s the difference between a Soldier, and a Monster?





	1. Silence

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, WELCOME TO FORSAKEN!  
> This is the official sequel to my fairly popular R76 fanfiction, Haunted!  
> If you haven't read that, you should do so on the following link, or else this fanfiction won't make any sense to you!:  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/10376781/chapters/22920309
> 
> This story is titled Forsaken (as inspired by Widowmaker), and will focus on the ongoing struggle between Overwatch, Talon, Jack, Gabe, Widowmaker and the new Omnic threat which emerged at the end of the last story. As always, this is primarily a R76 fanfiction, and explicit NSFW content can be expected on a regular basis. Disturbing themes may come up, so be warned. If I think something might be triggering, I will usually post it in the note section at the beginning of the chapter.
> 
> Chapters will be put out every two weeks, as opposed to every week, because although I know a great number of you enjoyed reading the story every week, it was simply too time consuming for me to keep up with then I also have commissions that I need to work on as well, as art is my only form of income at the moment. I am excited to be bringing you content again! 
> 
> Hetero themes MAY come up, as to ensure a realistic feel. Please keep your heterophobia or homophobia at home, kids.  
> Didn't enjoy the read? Don't comment, don't come back. Simple.

Silence.

 

Silence, in this desolate place, is such a welcome, old friend. Ancient stone sits stacked one over the other, interlacing piles that rise out of the deep, navy-toned lake that acts like a moat around this, the castle. Here, the maple trees on the distant bank seem ever-orange, constantly shifting hues in this silent oasis, a desert of pure peace where, just beyond the comparatively small ride from boat to either shore, chaos waits on the other side.

Here, it's a welcome quiet, a rest from all else that might trouble her mind. Though she barely knows the place, it's already beginning to feel like home. Her hum reverberates off of the empty, echoing walls, and her fingernails can be heard tracing along the stone as she strides elegantly by, haunted only by the sound of her own heels down at the other end of the hall. Three more days of painting, and the carpenters will be here with her new furniture- her new bed... A new tub was already being brought in for her, large enough to drown herself in if she so pleased. Idly, the widow toyed with the idea of filling it with wine first. A waste of good wine, she eventually decided. The scent of fresh bread wafted from the nearby village across the water, and the occasional ring of the church's bell tower. A quiet little place for quiet little people. People who would never notice or recognize the danger in their midst. This place, she thinks, must have seen a century of ill fortune. How many people had died here over the years, she wondered? And, what fortune that it should come to her just as soon as she needed some time away?

Alas, the alcohol was seriously lacking as compared to what she was used to. She knew that eventually she would have to go back to Talon eventually. Besides, if she didn't, someone would come looking for her here, and she had no intention of letting that happen. No, she had decided, the only one staying here with her was the eight-legged friend who had taken up residence in her dining room, in one of the windows. Fingers eventually land upon a stack of papers meant for her to read and sign before drifting to a book just beside it. A worn, weathered thing, inexplicably familiar to her, the title, embroidered silver thread over a black leather binding, one of the few things here not covered in dust. The breeze that drifts through many glass-less windows disturbs the pages, flipping it open and among the scribbled writings there, her eyes unintentionally grasp onto a single word.

 

_Gabriel._

 

Almost aggressively, she reaches down to snap the book shut, as if to confine its secrets.

For now.

 

“Gabriel? Gabi? Oh come on you old coot, I know you're awake.”

Jaelen's voice rouses the man into a small smile as one of his eyes slip open, side-eyeing the woman as she stands nearby his recovery bed. He's got half his face pressed into a pillow, and someone's let open one of the windows, which offers a salt-scented breeze to roll soothingly over his recovering frame. Half wincing, he turned on his side to face her, the sheets sliding down somewhat. His body is recovering, slowly. There are still bandages here and there- casts to keep his bones in place, a few pins, and braces for some of his joints.

“You're seeming especially rude this morning. Do I look _old_ to you? Ah- on second thought don't-”

“You do. You've got those dark circles under your eyes like you've been trying on Ana's eyeliner,” She beams at him, and Gabriel snorts at her.

“That means I need to _sleep,_ not that I'm old. What do you want, Jaelen?” He asks, slowly turning over onto his back with a groan. Today is a warm, clear day in Fiji. Spring is in full swing, as noted by the way wildflowers occasionally overpower the scent of the sea. “Where's Jack?”

“Getting you lunch. You've got work to do today, you know?”

“Lunch? I haven't even had-”

“It's one, Gabriel. One in the afternoon. You're not _that_ hurt anymore.”

“Jay... I broke _fourty percent_ of the bones in my body-”

“Yeah, and those are all healed thanks to Angela!”

“I punctured my lung _three_ times,”

“And you're _still_ breathing!” The woman feigns excitement- she does it terribly, and Gabriel's eyebrows flatten as he stares at her.

“I broke both my legs,”

“ _And your arm._ ”

“ _AND my arm. And my hand._ ”

“They all seem to be working to me.”

“I _cracked_ my spine, Jaelen. Could you give a man a little time?”

“Oh sure. Sure! A little time,” she teased. “It's been almost a month and a half, Gabriel. You can walk. I've seen it. Unless you think you're too _old_ to get out of bed today.”

“ _Christ._ ” Gabriel rolls his eyes and reaches up to run his fingers through his hair. Someone's been letting it grow long on top again- he knows Jack likely had something to do with that. The old Soldier could hardly get over how good Gabriel had looked back in the glory days, or so he'd call them. “Can I at least eat first, and shave?”

“I _guess._ After that, you have an appointment with Angela. She's demanding you come see her today- says it will be good for you to keep up your strength.”

“And you? What are you still doing here? I thought the Commander wanted you out on missions a week ago? Two weeks, in fact?”

“ _I got sick._ ”

“... Jaelen you look fi-”

A faked cough was just that, faked, but she'd apparently gotten real good at doing it, as she effortlessly cut him off. “ _Ah,_ bad case of the flu, I'd guess.”

Gabriel knew the only reason she was here was to spot him. She didn't trust all the other nurses and the like around to be able to carry his weight if he went down- but she could, as much as no one wanted to admit it, they liked having Jaelen around to raise his spirits when Jack was busy. Despite having stayed with him for the entire duration, Jack was still required at most of the meetings, still required to debrief some of the new recruits... Their times together were limited even now. Especially now, since Gabriel had more or less been on this base, in and out of this room for the entire time. The world had continued to move on and revolve as it constantly had, and in the end, the world's faith had been restored in Overwatch, and in Gabriel himself. He was now just another healing hero on their roster- one that the media seemed to like to bring up whenever they thought it might raise ratings, no matter the context in which it was being used.

The door into the recovery finally opens and Jack stands on the other side with a cart, staring at Jaelen and Gabriel as they glance his way.

“Hey. Finally awake- lazy ass,” he teases, pushing the cart up and leaning over to greet the man with a kiss. Intentionally so, they make the kiss just long enough to make Jaelen uncomfortable so that she'll leave. Making a disgruntled sound, the girl snorts and then turns away.

“Okay, whatever, see you guys later,” she utters and heads out.

Jack smirks after the door closes behind her. “ _Hey,_ ” he murmurs, his voice a little more sultry than before. Gabe smiles back and resists the urge to chuckle- that still hurts a bit.

“ _Hey_ yourself. You know if you're going to keep bringing me _breakfast in bed_ , I'm tempted to just... Stay injured.”

“This is _lunch_ ,” Jack replies smoothly, deftly avoiding the implication there. He stands upright and moves the cart so that the top shelf of it can slide out in front of Gabriel- soup and a sandwich- nothing fancy, but it was harder than the puree'd crap they'd had him on for the first several weeks, but not so hardy that his body couldn't handle it.

On one hand, Gabriel liked that he could eat food again and that it would actually... Matter. Being without his shadows for so long was a gift on one hand, and on the other, he missed them. Being with his own sense of darkness had been who he was for so long, and now he felt absent without them. Angela had said this would only be the case for a little while longer. Her own nanites were going to work on him, and so for the time being, his were being repressed- partially to keep him from feeding on the people who were trying to take care of him accidentally. Evolving nanites could mean anything, after all, and everyone, Gabriel included, had decided it would probably be a really bad thing if they learned to feed on people who he wasn't trying to feed from, or innocent people for that matter- both possibilities if they'd been allowed to roam free while he was still so gravely injured. So, Angela's nanites had taken over, subduing them for the time being and allowing Gabriel to feel _almost_ human again. He even felt a little bit warmer to the touch, which was massively reassuring. Jack didn't seem to mind, but he hadn't said anything about it, either, leading Gabriel to wonder how he felt about it. But, his body had taken longer to heal than it otherwise would have, and even now, it was tender to breathe too deep, or to move too quickly.

“What's the plan today, besides my meeting with Angela?” Gabe asks as he settles back and casually starts into his meal.

“Some easy things, followed by some not so easy things. You need to get some sun, and I thought maybe we could take the path down to the beach. The walk would be good for you.”

“Are you sure? Last time wasn't particularly...”

“Last time you were insistant that you could make it. That was two weeks ago, Gabe. You're a lot stronger now than then. You can't be afraid of going back down there just because you think you can't make it back up.”

“I _can_ make it back up,” the man said defiantly, “It'll just take me a while. Didn't figure you wanted that kind of time investment.”

“... Gabe, if I didn't want a time investment, I'd have never _demanded_ they station me here until you were healed...” The Soldier sits down on the empty bed beside him, wrinkling the perfectly pressed white bedding. The overhead lights gleam down at them, denoting a slight change in the sunlight and temperature as they shift slightly warmer. “You saved thousands of people, Gabe. I'm not going to just... Let you heal up alone.”

“I've got Jay-”

“ _Jay_ has a lot of growing up to do, and you know it.”

“She's older than you realize, Jack. She's been through a lot of pain, just like we have.”

“Well, if you don't _want_ me here-”

“No! I mean. Yes. I do. Christ, Jackie. I'm glad you're here. I know why you're here, and I want you here... But I also don't want to hold you back, or anyone, for that matter. Work still has to get done, and people will always need you to guide them.”

“No, Gabe. Not anymore. They have Winston. He's filling out the shoes, slowly. I'm just an old face anymore- a relic from a forgotten era.” He laughs dryly, and Gabe smiles a little sadly. Out of the two of them, Jack easily looks the older- because he, unlike Gabriel, _did_ age properly... And Gabe couldn't help but worry that somehow now they were years apart... There was a dread, of course, that eventually he might have to watch Jack die. He might have to watch a _lot_ of his friends and family die... But not today, he reminded himself quickly.

“You're not forgotten to me, Jackie. I just don't want to weigh you down.”

“You're not. We need you, and I need you. I need to know that you're alright. I'm not going anywhere. Besides, since that attack, everything's been quiet. Not a whisper of Talon activity anywhere... Literally, anywhere. Nothings moving, no comms are going off- Olivia's been combing the intel _and_ hidden channels for weeks, and found nothing. I think it might... I mean, I hope it might be over. I really do. Jinx however suggests it might not be that simple.”

“It _never_ is,” Gabe groans as he eats.

“They've cleaned up a lot of the debris from the fights, Gabe. No one's found the gauntlet. That suggests that either it was destroyed in the blast, or that somehow it survived. If it survived, it means that someone could have stolen it. Hell, for all we know, Talon might still have it. Maybe they're looking for a new successor.”

“Did they ever find Akande's body?” Gabriel asks at once.

“... Well no, but... Gabriel, we saw what that blast did. I don't think there would be anything _left_ of him to find. They barely recovered any parts of the _ship_. _You_ barely lived, and here, no one thought you could even die, Gabe.”

“I'd like to point out that so far, that hasn't been proven wrong, either.”

“Ah. Right. But you know what I mean. You were so hurt-”

“ _Here we go,_ ” Gabe sighs, rolling his eyes.

“Gabe. You need to promise me you won't do anything that reckless again. Please. I know what you were doing. I know why... But the world needs you and they need you _alive_. We're in this together and we should have done it together. If you had died... I don't know what I would have-”

“ _Shh,_ ” Gabriel reassures the man as he pushes the shelf slightly away from him so that he can lean in and kiss Jack to stop his incessant worrying. It works, and their eyes lock for a long moment.

“I love you, Gabriel,” Jack says warmly, and it makes Gabe smile some.

“I know, Jack... And I love you, too. I can't make you that kind of promise- just like I know you can't. We do what we can to help people. That's all we can do. I made a decision. A risky decision, but I made it... And I'm _still_ here, so I'd say it was a good decision.”

“At the cost of a lot, Gabe... Angela has... I mean... This.”

“... This?” Gabe asks, slightly taken aback, he leans back further in his seat to regard the soldier. “You can't honestly tell me you preferred Reaper to this, can you? I can _eat_ , Jack. I can heal- normally. I can just... I mean I can just be me. Like I was when I met you.”

“No, I know, Gabe. I mean. You're not, though, right? By the records, you already had something going on with you when I met you. Something from SEP... But it doesn't matter. I know what you mean. I guess I'd just sort of started getting _used_ to you being Reaper- er... You... Being you. They're one in the same, aren't they? Has _anyone_ ever actually told you if the nanites are something else or not?”

“Something else? What do you mean?”

“Sentient, Gabe.”

“Oh...” Gabe looks down, considering his food. He shrugs gently and sucks in a breath. “No, Jack, no one has. And I haven't asked. They don't seem sentient. They seem to me more like... Like a hive. One collective goal, all operating for the same thing, commanded by one source.”

“What goal, Gabe, and what source?”

“Well obviously they're keeping me alive, or else I wouldn't still be alive after all these years. Source... I guess I don't know. They don't seem to obey me that often. It isn't like... I mean. They just react instinctively to what I want to do. They're in my head, you know? My blood. They're part of me now. What I do, what I need to do, they do. They don't always do what I expect them to, it's true, but most of the time... What do _you_ mean that me and Reaper are one in the same? What gave you that impression?”

“Am I wrong? Do you feel like it's a separate personality?”

“... No. Not exactly. I'm just curious why you asked. It isn't like schizophrenia or anything.”

“... I guess, because I've seen this darkness in you forever. As long as I've known you, you've always been this way. Even before what Moira did to you. Before you ever really _had_ anything after SEP. You've kind of always had this streak in you. It's a headspace that you put yourself in when you need to do something difficult. Something that makes it easier for you to do it... A lot of people have it. I watched a documentary.”

“So... What are you saying then, Jack? You'd like it if I didn't go there when I had to kill someone or do something... Dark, as you so put it?”

“... No, that's not what I'm saying at all. I'm saying that I guess... I kind of miss it, at least a little bit. It was part of you as the way I have always know you as being, and I've always loved you for being able to do things I can't. I'd gotten used to you being Reaper.”

At this point, Gabriel can't help but smirk just faintly- its the same kind of smile that _Reaper_ would have given him. “I think I know what you're missing,” he says in a deeper tone that sets Jack's nerves on fire.

“Oh, and what's that?”

“ _You miss the arms, don't you, Jackie?_ ” The extra arms- the words alone made the Soldier blush hard. He looked away to avoid Gabriel noticing, but it didn't work. The man's smile turned wide and he leaned in, bringing himself up close to Jack's neck, trying to steal a small bite when someone entered from across the room and abruptly cleared their throat.

“ _Ahem. Gentlemen?_ ” Angela's voice was stern. “I can see your lunch is going on just _swimmingly_ , Gabriel, but please. I have been waiting for you for half an hour.”

The dark man pulls back slightly to glance at her, before sighing back into his place entirely with a tilt of his head. “Alright, Doc. I'll get on with it. Give me fifteen minutes and I can be-”

“Don't bother, hm? I've brought your paperwork with me. Jack, if you'd please?” The woman strides up, and Jack moves to stand.

“Alright. I'll be out in the courtyard when you're ready, Gabe.” The soldier then moves off, striding out of the recovery wing and letting the door slide shut behind him. Gabriel's eyes slide back towards Angela, who has taken her seat where Jack was moments before.

“Please, continue. I have nothing alarming for you today, just some things to go over.”

“Fire away,” Gabe says, now eating his lunch with earnest, as the distraction of Jack is gone.

“Well, your blood samples are back in. It looks like everything is going well- at least mostly.”

“Mostly?”

“Well, it looks like a few of your nanites have shifted, yet again.”

“Shifted? What now?”

“Well, it could be good news or bad news. We're not entirely sure right now, but we're looking into it. It looks like a few of them have taken on some of the characteristics of some of the brand new nanites I have introduced into your system... They're not weakening you, persay, but they don't seem to be helping, either. We're not exactly sure _what_ they're doing. It's a possibility that they could be reproducing themselves in an effort to evolve even further... To enhance themselves in some way, or, it could mean that they're trying to overpower the nanites entirely... In an effort to take over, you see. Your nanites in particular have always been very aggressive, taking what they need from whatever they can get a hold of. We've even seen proof of your nanites taking key minerals from _omnics_ , you can believe it or not. It isn't just humans, it would seem, you can feed from almost anything provided that it has what your body needs to survive. Your nanites could be trying to feed off of the nanites I have put into you, and in-so doing, could be making something new entirely... To what effect, we have no idea. The number of them is slowly growing, and when you have enough, we'd like to do some tests on them. Single them out, if you will.”

“And what will the tests determine, exactly?”

“What they're for. Whether or not they're harmful or beneficial to you, and other people. Mostly, we're testing to make sure that they're not going to turn into some kind of sickness or outbreak. These things can be very tricky, and if they go wrong, you may land in quarantine until we can eradicate them from your system. Right now, there aren't enough of them to be a threat to anyone... I sent Jack away because I didn't want him to be concerned... But I feel it is safe to warn you that it's possible that, once we've taken you off of my medication, they could transfer via sweat, blood... Saliva... _Other fluids_... Into other people. We need to make sure of what they are first... So there may be a period of time where you won't be able to be intimate with Jack. It hasn't come to that yet, but we'll see.

Otherwise, it's a clean bill of health. You're healing well, and it seems that your body is metabolizing normal food in a natural way, so that's a really good sign.”

While she seems peachy with her news, Gabriel is offput. Possible time without being able to kiss Jack, let alone _anything_ else? In the last year that he had been with Overwatch, he had gotten used to having Jack nearby him... And in his bed. Would they have to stop that now because of whatever his nanites were doing? He seriously hoped not.

“If it _is_ bad, you can remove it, right? The bad nanites?”

“... Yes, I think so. It would be like a sort of dialysis. Similar to how we worked on you before now, to get you here. Still, nanites as a whole work better together. If all you have is a few of them, such as in some of Ana's ammunition, they only last a short while, and will die off on their own. So, we do not need to remove every last one of them to get the job done. Yours will come back naturally on your own, don't worry. As soon as we stop repressing them, they'll regrow to their natural count. For now, it's nothing to worry over. Finish your food, Gabriel, and go get some exercise with Jack.”

“Does _Winston_ know that Jay is here, totally fine, by the way?”

“What? Whatever are you talking about, Gabriel? It's obvious that poor girl has the flu. Give her a break, would you?” Angela says, smiling as she moves to stand. Then, she too strides away, leaving Gabriel with an amused smirk on his lips as she passes through the exit door.

 

Half an hour later, Gabriel manages to convince himself out of bed and into proper clothes- a pair of black shorts and a loose tank top, nothing constricting or tight. Putting weight on his spine is exhausting, but he knows that if he wants to be strong again, he has to at least try. The muscles have grown weaker in the weeks of healing, but Jack makes sure to keep him working, at least a little bit, each day. The island of Fiji is exactly how he remembered it- green. There are walkways of white marble, glass windows as tall as the walls, modern, sleek designed buildings, and in the back, a set of envirodomes that feed everyone housed here, along with other places around the globe, wherever they can reach. Winston has seen to it that of the many Overwatch stations there used to be, work has begun to restore some, and replace others. It is their duty, he feels, to help heal what they hurt... And undoubtedly, the wars caused by Talon are part of Overwatch's responsibility. Countless people have been made homeless, others, hurt or killed. Cities have been toppled, and for decades the world has known nothing but endless suffering. Their focus should be not only to end these conflicts, but to begin reparations as well. Especially since corporations like the Vishkar were so few and far between, and even fewer still weren't corrupt. Now, with the investigation that the UN had begun, that had all been brought to a stand still, leaving the world to more or less try to recover itself, with little help from the outside. Overwatch was changing that. Tropical plants grew in trimmed flower beds, and the Soldier sat on a round bench that circled some in the middle of the courtyard. The breeze tousled his own hair, slightly longer on top as well- he'd actually styled it at some point, and Gabe was only just noticing now.

“So much for that receding hairline, huh?” Gabe asks by way of greeting, and the man looks up from a holo-screen he'd been diligently plugging away at.

“You noticed. _Wow._ Angela says that growing it back might be slow, but it might not last forever- and it'll always be white,” he laments with a short sigh as he moves to stand, sliding the holo away.

“White doesn't look so bad on you,” Gabe replies, smirking softly. “But you could dye it if you really, _really_ wanted to.”

“And look like I'm going through some kind of mid-life crisis? I'll pass, thanks. I'm way beyond that anyway. Besides, I seriously doubt that whoever I end up fighting is going to stop and stare at my _flowing, golden locks_.” They both snort at the idea. It's an inside joke about Reinhardt, and inside one from when the crusader first joined them, back in the very beginning of Overwatch. Ana couldn't keep her eyes off of him at the time, at least, until she met Sam, and then later had Fareeha.

“Well, are we going, then?” Gabe asks as he slides up to Jack. His movements are slower than they ever were, and a lot less graceful. Seeing him like this was difficult, but necessary.

“Not without me you ain't.” As expected, Jaelen had turned up seemingly out of nowhere to walk with them. After all, the walk down to the beach was anything but easy, not with the base being built on the top of a cliff. So, as simple as a walk seemed, it was a workout, especially for a man with a still healing spine and weak muscles. That was why Jack and Jaelen were there. _Why do their names always start with J,_ he wondered?

 

They wandered off, the other two taking their time so that Gabriel didn't have to rush. He admitted, it felt good to have the sun on his skin outright. The heat always helped to make him feel healthier, even now that he wasn't... _Himself,_ so much. His mind went back to how Jack had said he had gotten used to it- and it made Gabriel wonder... Had Jack thought about what it could mean for him not to age the same way? Did he care? Jaelen, the ever youthful woman, moved on ahead just barely, clearing the downward path of any debris from the night. The path itself was steps of white marble that scaled downward from the bluff up above, and though it was steep, the path was dotted with benches and places to rest. Gabriel made use of three of them before they finally reached the bottom floor. Once there, Jack dusted off a rock for him that sat close enough to the shoreline that the waves touched the base of it just barely.

“Go on, lets get your shoes off,” The soldier said, already moving to kneel to help him, but Gabe raised an eyebrow at him.

“You want me to get wet?”

“I thought you liked getting wet?” Jack's lewd sentiment was not lost on Jay, who let out a gross snort nearby.

“ _Christ at least wait for me to leave, you old fucks._ ” And she did then, wandering away, hands stuffed into her red hoodie, making her way down the beach. Jack was already sliding off the simple shoes they had given Gabe to wear, and however reluctantly, Gabe let his feet sink down into the rolling ripples of water at the edge of the rock. Seconds later, they found the sand beneath and promptly buried in- an old, almost childlike nostalgia coming over him. He smiled despite himself, looking towards Jack. The man smiled back at him.

“Not so bad, see? I just wouldn't recommend... Uh. You know, going in. No one really knows how badly the fallout affected the wildlife here.”

“What are you saying, Jack? Irradiated sharks? Men with pig faces?”

“Maybe. Who knows. All I'm saying is I don't want to have to fend off any thirsty mermaids... And showering sand off of you probably wouldn't be seen for what it was.”

“ _Right, because you wouldn't like the excuse anyway._ ” Reaper rumbles at him, smirking, and Jack chuckles, coming over in front of him finally, and Gabe's thighs instinctively part, allowing Jack to lean between them and bring him into a deeper, intimate kiss- the one that had been interrupted earlier. Gabriel's hands slide up onto Jack's hips as they kiss, and he groans softly into it. There's a familiar ache in his crotch that reminds him of his needs, and Jack pulls away just slightly.

“You know we really shouldn't. I could hurt you.” Apparently Jack had noticed the faint growl of want in the back of Gabe's throat for what it was.

“Come on, Jack. I'm sturdy... This may be as close as we get to a vacation for weeks... I haven't had any in-”

“ _I know, Gabe._ ” Rough, worn hands reach up to glide over Gabe's jaw and cheek, his smile soft. “I want this just as much as you do, but I also want you to get better. Angela would have my head if I did anything to interrupt your progress.”

Gabriel's chestnut eyes stare up at Jack- now, devoid of their red flecks for the time being. Jack can't help but feel like it's nice to see them again, like they used to be. Finally, Gabe sighs when his puppy-dog stare offers up no results.

“Fine, I suppose.” His eyes drift back to the water, crystal clear, teal blue, like sea glass. The sun reflects off the surface, and shells dot the shoreline with the occasional strand of broken seaweed. There's no one here besides them now, and even Jaelen has wandered out of sight. It's peaceful and calm, and for a moment, Gabriel feels... Lucky. He should have died in that explosion, but he didn't. Instead he was here, with a family who cared about him, and a man who adored him.

But he hadn't seen Rosa in months.

“Jack, has anyone talked to Rosa? Or... Anything?”

“Ana called her two days after the explosion, and then again a week later, when it was clear to us that you were stable. She wants to see you when you're feeling better, of course. We offered to bring her here, to Fiji, but she insisted that she didn't feel safe leaving her children alone, and wouldn't likely be able to get the time off from work on the fly. After all, it wasn't like... Bereavement or anything. Most people don't even know that you and she are related-”

“Wait... They don't? The media hasn't been hounding her?”

“Mmm, no. Sombra pulled some strings. The US government helped. Sort of like witness protection to keep anyone who _isn't_ a fan of yours from getting to her. They set her up in a nicer house. A safe place. Some of the media stations offered her some settlements for the harassment they gave her. That's about all I know.”

“Still in the same place?”

“Nearby enough. In the city, though. Not as sub-urban as before.”

“Jack, _cities_ aren't really safe anymore.”

“Do you really want them to relocate her somewhere that she has to commute an hour to work and an hour back? Or her kids, for that matter?”

“Well no... But-”

“Gabe. We did all we could for her. We're not government, remember? It's her call, anyway. She has to decide if she is happy where she's at. You can convince her otherwise when you guys see each other again. Besides, there hasn't been an attack on a city since the explosion.”

Gabe takes the hint to let his worries drop for the time being- he knows he's being paranoid. Nodding, Gabe's eyes drift back to the water. “Guess you're right. I'll talk to her.”

“So what did Angela have to say?”

Gabe tenses. He isn't sure he wanted to talk about it... And there was a good reason she'd sent Jack out of the room... But was he about to start keeping secrets from Jack again? No.

“My blood is doing something unusual. Unexpected, but not dangerous.”

“Doing something?”

“Evolving. Changing, again. They're monitoring it. Going to run some more tests in a while... She says that if it gets bad, that we might not be able to... Uh. _Do things,_ for a while.”

Soldier is quiet for a long moment as he sucks a sigh in through his nostrils.

“I guess we'll see,” he says finally. “So long as it isn't anything bad now. Right?”

“It isn't. It's harmless. Anyway. So what about Jinx- and his wife? Isn't she suppose to be around here somewhere?”

“She was, but after the debris started getting cleared up, they moved her too. She's in the same state Rosa is. Jinx and Zhou have been stationed somewhere up in Alaska to begin researching again. Winston wants to open back up the environmental sectors of Overwatch.”

“Zhou?”

“Oh... Ah. The girl with the... Hair-dryer ice-gun thing. Brilliant researcher, I guess.” Jack sounds like he barely knows her, but the woman's giggling laughter still echoes through Gabe's mind.

“ _Horrifying._ Anyway, what is Jinx doing there? What does he have to do with environmental research?”

“Nothing, technically. He's a hacker, just like Sombra is, but he has the insight of having been in both the minds of Talon _and_ the new threat. Unfortunately, she purged a lot of the information out of his head before we were able to capture him-”

“She?”

“... She. Jinx has stated very clearly that there is a woman behind the omnic attacks that were going on. He doesn't think she's dead either- more like... Rethinking her moves, I'd guess. Another omnic, like him. We sent himup there because we think its the last place anyone will ever think to look for him, and he can do it from anywhere on the globe... And the UN won't stick their noses there, not that he's doing anything _seriously_ illegal. He's checking everyone- including the people who don't want to be checked. That's why he's up there.”

Gabe's hands have slowly meandered around Jack's hips to his lower back, pulling him closer again and instantly distracting the Soldier, whose eyes suddenly meet his again.

“Gabe... Come on, babe. You know I-”

“ _Jackie..._ ” His eyes were pleading. Jack smiles at him and leans in to kiss him again.

“I _can't,_ ” he whispers into Gabe's lips, and then a small, mischievous curl finds its way onto the darker man's lips. Jack knows he's got about two seconds before-

“Well. Damn. It looks like you're going to make me do this the hard way,” Gabe rumbles, moving to slide himself off of the rock, right up into Jack's personal space, catching him off guard. His hands place onto Jack's shoulders before giving a sudden, abrupt shove that he isn't expecting, and a second later, Jack's flying backwards, and quite loudly crashing into the cushion of a wave, which drenches him. Gabe's smile is wide as the Soldier abruptly emerges, gasping and soaked.

“Reyes! You asshole!”

“ _Ooh, harsh words, boy scou-_ ”

His face is suddenly soaked in a wave of saltwater, along with most of his torso, and most unpleasantly of all, his mouth, which had been open. A hand reaches up to wipe off his face before looking back at Jack. “Oh, you're going to get it now.” Suddenly, Gabe is trudging in after him, and Jack laughs back at him, suddenly playful. Within minutes, the two are drenched from head to toe in salt and sand, and they find themselves washed up on the shoreline on top of one another. Gabe carefully uses Jack as a mattress as they kiss, letting the water roll up around them, the sun baking down over them in their now mostly-useless attire.

 

It isn't until Jaelen's roar of disappointment that they stop and realize how much trouble they're in.

“WHAT'N HELL ARE YOU TWO DOIN'? YOU KNOW ZIEGLER'S GONNA HAVE A SHIT FIT IF SHE FINDS OUT-”

“Well she _isn't_ going to find out, Jay,” Gabe says smoothly, water rolling off his soaked head and down the sharp angle of his nose, onto Jack.

“Oh! Oh, right. That's all well and dandy, isn't it, Mr. “I-cracked-my-spine,” huh? Can you even get up, now?”

“ _I can assure you, he's up,_ ” Jack utters beneath him.

“ _Oh Jesus Christ. You guys are gross. Fucking gross._ Get up. I mean really, just _get_. _Up._ I'm not going to be blamed for this shit. You guys have to get clean-”

 _Exactly,_ Gabriel thinks as he smirks down at Jack, who realizes the sudden plot all along. His eyebrows loft at Gabe, impressed but also taken aback.

 

Fourty minutes later, they're back up the cliff, and shoving their way into one of the hospital showers. Jack can barely keep his hands off of Gabriel, almost ripping the drenched, sandy items off of him as he pushes his way into one of the stalls. Its big enough for them both, but a hazy shower curtain does little to disguise that they're both in there. There is, of course, the risk that someone might come in and see them, or that someone might hear them, but right now, that hardly matters. Gabriel's willing to just about anything he can to have a taste of Jack on his tongue again, and in his state, he's in no position to top. The second the hot water starts on them, the two have forgotten their task entirely in favor of giving in to one another, lips pressed close, mouth's open, breathing in one another as their tongues tease somewhere in the middle. Bit by bit, the steam rinses away the sand and the salt, and Jack, for all his good intentions, can't help but snake his hand around Gabriel's back and down over the fine sculpt of his ass, finding a tight hold. It forces a small groan of want out of Gabe, who leans back against the shower wall, allowing Jack to take control for the time being. Jack's eyes roam down over Gabriel's chest- the fading scars from too many injuries, obvious. Angela's medicine couldn't do anything about those, and he was just fine with that- scars looked good, after all.

“ _Let's get you cleaned up, Captain._ ” Jack's voice is rough, but welcoming in the way he adores Gabriel with a long former title, one that makes Gabe smirk faintly. The soap and a rag are used as an excuse for Jack to feel up every inch of him, finishing with the aching length between his thighs, which throbs with each needy stroke. The dark man's eyes close, letting his head fall back against the wall, feeling Jack's teeth take their place against the side of his neck. Gabriel struggles not to get loud, instead exhaling a heavy pant into the steam around them as Jack gets a handful of whatever he wants. He can feel the Soldier struggle not to leave a mark on his skin- he wants to, badly, and he's barely holding back. There will still be a red mark, to be sure, but much to Gabriel's disdain, nothing that will last longer than an hour or two at absolute most. Tough fingernails scrape against his skin just enough to make him groan as quietly as possible, but even he can't stop the noise entirely. Jack's lips have moved, and continue to do so as they slide lower on his neck, eventually finding his collarbone, and not long after that, one of Gabe's nipples. The small nip there forces an unexpected hiss out of Gabe, whose fingers have slid up Jack's arms to his shoulders, digging in.

Jack's head continues it's slow descent, and with it, his fingers trace down Gabe's back, over his ass and down onto his thighs, still impressive bastions of muscle even after all this time without much use. When the Soldier's knees finally hit the ground, Gabe already knows what to expect next, and through his chestnut eyes, he lecherously watches as those lips tease their way down across his hip bone. They nip and taste across every inch until they find their way inevitably to the source of Gabriel's lust, and once there, Jack wastes very little time.

One of his hands slides over and props his length up with a thumb, lips running just along the side, blue eyes cast upward, eager to see the dark man's expression through the haze of steam. Jack smirks up at him. “ _What do you want, Gabe?_ ”

“ _...Jackie,_ ” Gabe stammers, “ _Don't torment me._ ”

“ _Tell me... What you want._ ” As he says this, his tongue dares to trace out over the tip of Gabe's eager cock, which twitches in response. Seeing Jack so dominant like this was a rare treat that Gabe was slowly beginning to remember, and enjoy, for that matter.

“ _Jack..._ ”

“ _Gabe..._ ” Another slow, deliberate lick from base to tip, forcing a bead of precum out of Gabe, who sucks in a breath and lets his eyes drift to the wall opposite of him. Jack seemed to enjoy making him wait- a teasing attitude that they had both shared for a long, long while now.

“ _Jackie, please... I need it._ ”

Hearing the word need was all it took for Jack to give in to the man's heated desires. After all, he had wanted this too. It had been over a month since they'd been able to do anything together, and there had been a time in there where even kissing had been a struggle for the two during his recovery. Now, Jack uttered a needy sort of moan before finally allowing his lips to spread over the tip of the man and take him in. Inhaling another deep breath, Gabe's eyes drift to the ceiling, those bright, florescent white and yellow lights that mimicked daytime beaming over his frame. Still deeper, Jack took him, not letting up until Gabe's head touched the back of his throat, forcing a groan of pleasure out of the both of them. A satisfied smirk fleets across Gabriel's slightly parted lips as he remembers the first time that Jack did this to him,on that small, relatively uncomfortable SEP couch in front of a holo-screen and a mess of ancient mem-chips. The forbidden love that had budded there, somehow unended, even by their deaths... Now, reforged. How much had they gone through to get to this point, both so completely enraptured by one another's touch and soul.

The image in Gabriel's mind was effortlessly washed away as Jack slowly withdrew, only to descend again, picking up a familiar, practiced bob that had Gabe's knees weak in mere moments. The back of a hand came up to his lips so as to let him bite into a knuckle, trying desperately to keep himself quiet, but now and then, his efforts failed, and the faintest deep moan would muffle past his fist. Jack seemed to delight in these moments, twisting his head just a bit to keep driving his tongue against the most sensitive nerves that drove Gabriel mad. By the way the muscles tensed along the man's thighs and torso, it was obvious that he was getting close, and Gabriel was looking forward to that final release, at least until Jack drew back one final time, and turned his attentions to the softer, sensitive skin of his inner thighs.

“ _J-Jack... What are you doing? I need-_ ”

“ _I know what you need, Gabriel._ ”

Gabe said nothing to those words, that voice, deep and commanding as it was, for a moment it would be easy to think that Jack was _still_ the First Strike Commander. While that had intimidated so many others, Gabriel realized he had always _liked_ that, mostly because it was so exceptionally rare that Jack had ever _actually_ commanded him. Most of the time, Gabriel had been free to make his own decisions, and so long as he could explain his reasoning to Jack, most of the time, he had managed to get away with it. It was only behind closed doors that Jack didn't give in to him, and it was such a rare, and treasured thing, especially considering that Jack had _not_ been this way when they first met. Gabriel had watched him become this way, and in part, helped him to do so. There was a sort of pride in that.

Chestnut eyes drop from the ceiling to land back on the Solider himself, who is now standing right in front of him, eye to eye, that look sharp, dominant. He knows what Jack wants, and Jack isn't making a secret of it, as his hands have drifted up to Gabe's hips, tightening suggestively.

“ _Jack... I'm still healing._ ”

“Don't you trust me, Gabriel?”

“... Yes.”

“ _Then trust me to be gentle._ ” One of the few things that Jack had always been at least slightly better at that Gabe, who was eager and excitable, rough and impatient. Jack knew how to be soft when he needed to be, and that was the difference between them. Gabe had seen it before in practice, but now it was slightly more crucial that he _was_ gentle. Rough hands slid over him with a sort of smoothness, however, turning him so that he faced the wall of the shower. Gabe's hands took residence upon a hand-rail meant to steady cleaning patrons, but for now, they were just to steady him for Jack's ministrations. Between his thighs, his own cock throbbed with the sudden neglect, needing more. It didn't take the Soldier more than a moment to position himself, slickened either by the water or some unseen source, and seconds later, he was pushing himself into Gabriel's tight, untrained opening. There was sure to be some pain with this, but Gabriel had always enjoyed at least a little bit of pain, so he let his legs distance themselves slightly, leaning forward so that his elbows pressed against the wall as well, leaning his forehead against them as he braced himself.

It was barely enough to ready him for the sudden stretch as Jack slipped into him, and even so, there was a stifled grunt of both pleasure and pain that forced its way out of Gabriel's lips. Jack's lips found his shoulder blade as his hips began to piston, each time getting a little bit deeper, making Gabe gasp again, and again, until one of the Soldier's hands came up to slide over his lips, muffling him further. The need to be quiet was paramount here, but feeling Jack's hands on him in any respect was more than welcoming enough. It felt a little bit like being punished for all of his mischief, but it was a punishment Gabriel had been willingly trying to earn.

Yet, the sound between them could only be muffled so much, as eventually the tell-tale smack of Jack's hips up against Gabriel's flesh was far too much to hide, and they were too far gone in their lust to dare trying to stop it now. With each heavy thrust in, Jack struck against his prostate just enough to drive him a little further towards that cliff he'd been teetering on before. Yet, for all of this passion, Jack was, as he said he would be, gentle. Nothing else hurt, and while he might have been slightly constricting, Gabe had felt Jack be _far_ rougher before, and he could feel the difference in the man now. He could feel the man's hot breaths rolling down over his spine, and if any sweat dared to collect on either of them, it was effortlessly washed away by the water overhead, falling in a curtain of rain from the ceiling above the shower itself. Again, the muscles in Gabe's legs began to tighten and tremble, his toes tightening against the floor as he struggled to keep himself upright. Hands tightened so much on the hand rail that his knuckles turned white, which went entirely unnoticed by Jack behind him, who was beginning to crumble just as much, and let his hand drop from Gabe's mouth down around his neck, then sliding further south across his torso, feeling over his abdomen and all the muscle on the way down to that twitching, wet cock hanging longingly between his legs.

“ _G-Gabe,_ ” he shuddered into the man's back, “ _I'm-_ ”

“ _Jack- Jackie... Christ. Don't stop. Don't-_ ” His words cut off when that hand found its place wrapped around the aching muscle.

That was all he could stand. The sound of Jack coming undone behind him and that repeated thrust against his begging insides coupled with the craved sensation of callused fingers teasing and stroking over his sensitive flesh and nerves was too much. Before Gabe could even properly warn the Soldier, he was himself caving in to his own lusts, finishing over his hand in a few quick spurts that caused his hips to buck and tremble in the man's grasp. He had needed this for a while, and Jack seemed to know that, finishing seconds later in a much similar fashion, but he did not bother to withdraw himself from Gabriel, instead, allowing it to stay inside as they had many times before.

“That's it,” Jack panted as his forehead falls against Gabe's back. “Get it all out, Gabe. Might not be able to do this again for a while.” Gabe, barely able to stand, laughed exhaustively back at him.

“ _Then I suppose it's a good thing I teased you into it._ ”

Jack's eyes lift again, and finally he withdraws himself, turning Gabriel so that his back's to the wall, his hands falling idly to his sides to press back against it, holding himself up.

“Don't think I didn't know exactly what you were doing, Gabe. While your little manipulations might work on everyone else, I can see _right_ through you.” He's smirking as he leans in, foreheads touching once more. “I _let_ you convince me in here because I wanted to. You knew that, didn't you? That I'd cave?”

“ _... Yes, Jackie._ ”

Jack smirks again, and they kiss again. It's a long, heated session, but they're both too exhausted to let it go any further- Gabe feels like he's ready for another nap already.

“Let me clean you up. I can't have Angela getting too suspicious, now.” Jack says, reaching for a rag and some soap to finish cleaning the man up. Afterwards, he cleans himself off, and helps Gabriel back into his clothes- new clothes, since the others were more or less useless now. Gabriel relaxes back in his bed then, and Jack puts on an old show for them to watch on a holo-screen pulled down from the ceiling across from his bed while he rests.

 

It's not fifteen minutes before Gabriel is contentedly asleep again, but Jack stays with him all the same.

 

 

“This will pass.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because it will. Nothing lasts forever, Akande. Pain is just a trick of the mind, you know? There are always risks... There are always costs that must be paid for what we do.”

“Do you think _I_ don't know that?”

“Oh? And tell me, what _do_ you know of it? I'm always curious to hear the opinion of the less-educated populace.”

Moira's voice is condescending and hateful, as always. She is not one of Akande's friends, and hasn't been since he began to question her true motives months ago. But, at the moment, she's the only one he has to look into the shattered ribs on his right side, now, not even strong enough to carry the gauntlet, let alone wield it.

“What do _you_ know of sacrifice, O'Deorain? Nothing. You've never given anything of any cost to you to see what needs done gets done.”

“ _Haven't I?_ ” She asks as she slides around the side of the surgical table. Akande is hooked up to more machines than he cares to count. There are fluids pumping into him that perpetually keep him healing a little more each day. There's a numbness on that side that she says will fade in time, and there's a deeper pain where the surviving nerves end that he can't shake. The torn muscle will take weeks to properly recover, and longer still to strengthen. “ _You_ don't know anything about me, Akande. Let's face the facts, shall we? You don't know who I am, and you don't trust me. And, why should you? I am not a doctor, at least, not quite, am I? No. But right now? Right now I am your best hope if you intend _not_ to be succeeded, like you succeeded your superiors. Tell me, what was it that you lost, again?”

Akande growls as he glares at her as she retrieves a long, curved needle from a tray of tools. He's on his stomach, and she's working on reparations on his back, stitching him closed from another operation. “You think that killing is easy for me.”

“Isn't it? You've killed hundreds yourself, and caused the death of thousands more. You don't seem to care how high the count gets so long as the quota is met. Isn't that true?”

“Who are _you_ to talk, Moira? With your... _Experiments._ ”

She seems to stab the needle into him, making him twitch, but he doesn't dare to let her hear any rebuke. “Oh but you see, that's the difference between us, isn't it, Akande?” She moves back around in front of him, her smile dark, horrifying in a way as she crouches down to look him eye to eye, her mismatched eyes disconcerting even to him. “You see, I don't _pretend_ to care about human life, or humankind's... Progression. Those things do not matter to me. Evolution has always proven to be the best eradicator of stupidity. One man's life means nothing in the grand scheme of survival, wouldn't you say? I've achieved incredible things at the cost of others. So have you. We're not so very different, Akande, but you like to pretend you're doing this for some... Noble goal.” She laughs, standing upright again, pacing away to fetch another tool, which he can't see with her back to him.

“If you don't _agree_ with my goal, then why are you _here_ , O'Deorain? Why did you ever join Talon in the first place? What is this to you?”

“I didn't say I didn't agree with it,” She muses as she prepares a tool that looks similar to a gun in some respects, and a touch of uncertainty reaches Akande's eyes. “For me, this is just another _part_ of the evolution. Devastating events have always weeded out the weak from the strong. That is your goal. Mine, however, is to further my _own_ strengths. My own science would benefit from _stronger_ test subjects, don't you think? Talon was... Beneficial to me, and still is. I help Talon because Talon helps _me_. Do you understand? Although, if you would like me to take my leave, I could always leave you as half a man for _others_ to come and take your _gauntlet_ from you.”

The gauntlet, locked away somewhere in Talon, a hidden thing so well guarded that even Moira did not _herself_ know where it was. Amélie knew, but then, Amélie knew a few things if only because it was crucial that someone else, someone he trusted, could help him if things went bad. All the same, she wasn't a doctor, and she certainly wasn't a geneticist. Talon _needed_ someone gifted to repair them after their little fuck-ups. In this case, a rather colossal failure at the hands of Overwatch, and more specifically...

“ _He_ needs to pay for this.”

“... Gabriel will pay, in time, Akande.”

“In time? He was your _greatest project,_ was he not? How did you fail?”

“... How did _I_ fail, Akande?” She turns back around to face him, and now he can see the item in her hand, a staple-gun. “I did not fail. If you recall correctly, when I was working with Gabriel, when he was still _willingly_ undergoing my testing, everything was perfectly under control. We destroyed Overwatch from within, like a cancer. It was flawless. It was not until by some twist of fate that death delivered him to Talon's door, and they began to command him and employ him like a tool that things unraveled beyond control. You cannot expect that a man like Gabriel Reyes would just accept the excuses they made to him. You cannot simply expect him not to ask questions, and not continue to ask even when the truth is obviously being hidden from him. I told Vialli that my serum wasn't yet perfected, and that it would be unwise to use it on him. Yes, it worked well enough on the girl, but _she_ wasn't a Super Soldier. She didn't _already_ have nanites in her system as Gabriel did. The SEP did a lot more than you assume it did. Do you intend to kill him?”

“... Why?” Her question was sudden, and it takes Akande by surprise. “ _Would it bother you_ for me to kill your little... Pet?” Moira's silence there after is hard to read, as she does her best to keep her true thoughts to herself. After a long moment, she approaches him with the staple-gun, responding.

“I suppose I feel like it would be a grand waste of time, is all. There is still quite a lot of experimenting I can do on him. It is possible that I can find a way to return him to us. Even you can't deny that his aid was crucial to our operation. I think you'll find that killing him would be far more difficult than simply... Re-purposing him.” If Moira felt any affection for Reaper, she did not say so. “Don't move.” She warned suddenly before hunching over him and closing the last of the surgery with stapled, making his hands tighten on the table so firmly that it quaked under his touch. “If Sanjay hadn't been so quick on the teleporter, you and I might not even be here now to discuss the point, would we? Reaper is getting stronger. His nanites are changing again. He can do more. I think we could put that to use.” She leaned forward more, using a finger to wipe away a stray drip of blood that dared to ooze out of one of the staples. She smirked faintly.

 

“ _But, like with all volatile substances... We need to be careful._ ”


	2. Allies

Back in the Dolomites, the heat of summer bathes over the mountain peak, offering warmth to the breezy peaks that even now conceal the Headquarters from public view. Jesse is sure that anyone even walking down the corridor can hear the way Ana suddenly yells, and he flinches in response, despite that it wasn't aimed for him.

“I did NOT agree to this, Commander!”

Winston holds a stronag face to the elder sniper, trying to merge his sympathy with his common sense. “Ana...” He tries desperately to calm her down.

“NO! No. When you told me, when you _told_ me that we were getting new recruits, you did NOT say she would be with them! This is not-”

A tall frame steps into the room via the doorway that Jesse leans next to. With his head down, he can just barely see the gleam of her helix-blue armor with its gold accents.

“ _This_ is what I wanted, Mother.”

“...F-Fareeha!” Ana stammers, not aware until now that her daughter had arrived. “You should _not_ be here.”

“But I am, and I am _not_ leaving.” Her face is stern, and it's clear to see the relation between the two. Ana's glare hardens and she moves forward to confront the woman as the door slides shut behind her. As if to avoid any hostility, Jesse slides sideways along the wall, away from the pair. Winston, perhaps wisely, says nothing.

“Overwatch is dangerous, Fareeha. It is not what I wanted for you.”

“ _Helix_ is just as dangerous. I was raised in Overwatch. I grew up with the team.”

“Helix is _not_ as dangerous as what we're doing.”

“Isn't it? We have been fighting the same enemies for months, Mother. We've been in the same battles. This is a natural transition-”

“ _Why_? Why transition at all, Pharah?” That old nickname from when she was a child revealing itself. “Why can't you stay with Helix, guarding the prison?”

“The prison? Did you forget that Doomfist broke out of it several months ago? He released a great number of our inmates as well.”

“You see? They need you there-”

“No, Mom, they need Overwatch,” She says, her eyes rolling somewhat until Ana suddenly reaches up and grips the front of her armor, making Pharah's eyes pop. For a moment, it's easy to imagine that Pharah is still a teen, and not thirty two, almost thirty three years old.

“ _This is a mistake_ , I should have sent you to live with Sam-”

“No! Dad is one of the innocent people _suffering_ from the war we're in! Overwatch is my family. I belong here, and I can act as a consultant between Helix and Overwatch. We can work together- it's a smart move and you _know_ it. We don't know when Talon might come back, or someone worse. They're like roaches, you know? Just because you kill a few doesn't mean there aren't more hiding in the cracks... And those? _Those_ are better at surviving. Helix has already recaptured some of the prisoners lost in Doomfist's attack. Some of them died in the last explosion. Repairs are well under way, and this little bit of peace we have might be the only chance we have of rebuilding and strengthening our forces. I know that Overwatch lost a few people in that battle too, and that some of your strongest are... Currently out of commission-”

“Well now, hold on. Gabe's well on his way back to bein' A-O-K,” McCree inserts himself, eyes shifting up from under his hat finally as he looks at the two Amaris. “I just saw him a week ago. He's on his feet.”

“And fighting, Jesse? No. Rumor has it that he's not even Reaper anymore-”

“Let me tell you somethin',” The cowboy starts, brows furrowing, “This is just a temporary thing. He was hurt real bad in that explosion...”

“And? What if he never recovers?”

“He _will_ recover.”

“But he won't be the ghost.”

“We don't _need_ the ghost, Pharah. He was a strong man even before Moira got her hands on him. You might have been too young to remember-”

“I remember a man who was only concerned about completing the mission. He didn't care what it cost, so long as it got done.”

“That ain't true- you didn't know him well enough.”

“I knew him when he exploded the base, Jesse.”

“ _Give him a chance, Fareeha,_ ” Ana interrupts. “It's true that Gabriel has had a rough past, that he's made a few questionable calls... But that? The explosion? That wasn't him. That was Moira... We know more now than we ever have about him, and about what happened... Things that Helix didn't know. If you're _really_ going to stay here, then you need to know the truth. Come with me, I'll debrief you.”

“...And lecture me on why this is such a bad idea, probably,” the woman sighed, turning as Ana slipped passed her and following her out.

“Probably,” Jesse heard Ana reply as the door shut on the two, and he glanced slowly to Winston.

“You sure this is a good idea, Commander? You don't reckon that having Pharah here will compromise Ana?”

“I don't intend to send them on the same missions, McCree. Despite Ana's mothering instincts and paranoia, Pharah is right. She knows both Helix and Overwatch. She knows our team, our operatives and how we work. I have no doubt that she would be a massively beneficial asset to our organization.”

“An' Helix? They're just gonna let her hijack their armor?”

“No, not quite. That's part of the bargain. They will allow her to keep it so long as she reports to them, and if she isn't deployed, comes to them when she is called for.”

“ _Reportin'_ to them? That safe?”

“Safe enough. Helix is on our side, Jesse. One of our allies. All this does is seal the deal. As she said, we've been fighting the same enemies for a long time now, and likely still will be. It makes more sense to work together, to pool our information when it's safe to give it. Additionally, Helix can deploy inactive Helix agents to our aid when need be... That's a big deal, don't you think?”

McCree looked down with a small sigh before dipping his head. “Well, alright I guess. You're the boss.”

“...Anyway. You said Gabriel is mending well?”

“Well enough. The doc says he's likely got a few more weeks before he's actually doing anything super physical... Do you still want to bring him back here?”

“Having him here would be advantageous for his intel, even if he can't fight. Besides, he can work with our recruits even if he isn't going on deployment. I'll have him on a ship in two days.”

“Lookin' forward to it. Am I dismissed, Commander?”

“Yes, I think that's all for now.”

 

Jesse turns and stalks out, making his way down to the training rooms which have just enough ventilation to let him smoke, and just as he's about to light one up, his eyes land on a pair of combatants in the center of a square training mat. Genji and Katie, again. Katie is just as fast as Genji is, which he finds surprising, but inwardly he wonders if the cyborg is intentionally slowing himself down to give the scientist more encouragement to continue her training. He watches for several minutes before Genji finally puts her on the ground, and she winces, rolling back up. Genji extends a hand to her before bowing and exiting. The man offers McCree nothing more than a short, curt nod of both greeting and farewell before departing. The woman, wiping sweat off her brow with a rag, spots the gunslinger leaning against the far wall and walks over to him, waving smoke out of her way.

“You know you really shouldn't do that in here,” she says with a small smirk. Jesse rolls his eyes faintly and neglects a response.

“So you're really goin' through with it then?” Jesse asks.

“Training? Yes.”

“You sure that's what you want to do?”

“Hey, you know- Jack and Gabe, Ana and Reinhardt's... All these old guys are just making me look terrible... And I'm healthier than they are! At least... Sort of.”

“Angela still testing that serum on you, eh?”

“It's mostly _my_ serum, but... You know. Yeah, I guess. It's working, too. No ill effects, at least so far. At this rate I'll live to be one-thirty.”

“Christ almighty. Why'n hell would anyone want to be around that long?”

“... Well I mean. Why isn't really the question, is it? It's that we could. I guess it would be enough for some people to give them more time to spend with people they love or... Or-”

“Finish missions the ain't yet finished? Yeah, I got you. When do you figure you'll start?”

“Whenever the Commander thinks I'm ready.”

“Fair 'nough. Want to get somethin' to eat?”

“... Yeah. That sounds good. I never can convince myself to eat around that guy.”

“What- who- Genji?” Jesse snorts with a laugh. “Naw, he don't eat much. Or at all, as far as I can tell. Maybe recreationally...”

They let the matter drop and wander off to get food.

 

In Fiji, the meals are significantly more tropical, not that Gabriel minds. It's a strange thing, eating because he _has_ to. It's been so long that food suddenly seems to have more value than simple flavor to him- and he's actually _hungry_ more. _Lots_ more. So much so that Jack casually teases him about putting on weight... Or, it would feel like teasing, if Gabe wasn't _actually_ putting on weight. But, it was a healthy weight, Angela assured him. His body needed the calories to help rebuild the muscle that was slowly coming back in, and she promised him he wasn't likely going to be growing a keg any time soon.

“Yeah, I'm goin' back,” Jaelen snorted as she stirred her fork through some kind of green jello with pineapples in it. “Winston only said I could come here to check up on you. But you know... Then I got _sick._ So, it was better that I stay a while.”

“Funny that he sent you, McCree _and_ Jack. Plus Angela's here.”

“Oh come on.”

“What? It's a legitimate concern. Did you all need to be here?”

“Gabi, you were like... Dead'er somethin'. The commander couldn't risk anyone getting the bright idea to come and finish you off. He sent us here to protect you-”

“Protect me?” Shock came into Gabriel's voice for the first time. “Is _that_ why someone's been by my bedside more or less at all hours?”

“I mean, I guess... Besides that Jack thinks you're the most interesting thing here. He ain't got anythin' better to do. They sent Jesse back, so I knew it wouldn't be long before we were along too. Will you be ready for tomorrow's flight?”

“... Ready and _willing_. As nice as this place is, I want... I _need_ to get back to work... I need to feel...” Chestnut eyes shifted away and he sighed, realizing he was confessing too much of himself in that moment, perhaps eagerly. “Nevermind... I should be patient. I can't expect him to send me on missions the second I arrive.”

“... You feel...? What, Gabi? Cabin fever?”

“Ah... Don't worry about it, kid.”

“ _I'm not a kid._ Just tell me what's going on?” Her forwardness made Gabriel flinch slightly, and he glanced up at her from his lunch- some kind of chicken teriyaki.

“Alright, alright. Calm down. It's just... I mean. This place is great. It's beautiful- a resort, right? But... It doesn't feel the same. Not for me. I'm not... I mean,” he sighed again, frustrated. “Look, this is confusing, and boring.”

“It's the medicine, isn't it?” Her words stop him with ease, and their eyes meet levelly. She can tell it's been eating at him- not being Reaper. Not having his shadows. “You don't feel like _yourself_.” He stares at her for a long moment before shifting his attention back to his food.

“Was that how it felt for you?” He asks. Following his lead, she resumes eating her jello and shrugged.

“The work was already done when I woke up, but yeah, I guess. The weight of the arms... The weight of the prosthetic bones... It didn't hurt, you know, but it didn't feel right, either. It felt... Strange. I felt augmented, unreal. Somethin' the cyborg struggled with for a long time too.”

“You talked to Genji?”

“On and off. He's in the training room a lot more than you are, believe it or not. Anyway, I get why you'd feel strange now. You've been one way so long that now, being anything else is strange. I had the same questions you do sometimes... Like if you were still human, or omnic, or something else.”

“And now? What do you feel like now?”

“Well... I mean, I've grown into this. I made a name for myself as this. This is who I am now. The Cardinal- ain't that right?” Her smile is a warm one as she looks back at him, and he chuckles, smiling back at her.

“Yeah, I guess it is. It suits you.”

“And Reaper suits you- I've got to admit that if you called yourself _The Owl_ I might not have thought of you as much of an inspiration.” They both snort with laughter before he shrugged.

“Well. That might not be my name too much longer.”

“ _What!? Why!?_ ” She stammers, letting her fork hover in the air at the end of a limp hand as she stares at him, slightly appalled.

“The UN wants a different look for me. They got me new tactical gear... It's white.”

“ _White?_ Like what? Like, like an angel, or salvation or some shit-”

“Like rebirth, Jay. They want me to cut ties with my history and start anew.”

“Cut _ties?_ ” She snorts, rolling her eyes. “If anything, you'd think they'd let you keep your old mantle as a sign of what people can become- what they can come from, you know?” And Gabriel chuckled faintly, head tilting.

“Well. They haven't forced me to do anything yet. I think they just want me to look like I fit the role,” He mused, and through his tone was jovial, Jaelen's tone was somber.

“Not all heros look like good guys, Gabi.”

 

A day and a half later, Gabriel's walking through a familiar lab, sucking in the aroma of filtered air and chemicals as he passes the main threshold into the familiar place. It's slightly remodeled from when the UN was here, but ultimately it isn't too different. There's a central walkway, and on either side of it, there are workbenches lined up along the sides and against the walls of the room, and at the far wall, there is a number of large screens. In the back, there are several isolation chambers behind locked doors with frosted glass walls, and curtains to allow privacy if it's needed. The room is mostly shades of light and medium grey, with accents of bright white and blue. Fluorescent lights are inlaid into the ceiling in large conical bulbs. Besides these, each station has its own set of lighting, machinery and apparatus to aid the researchers and doctors that frequently make their way in and out of the lab, which is an offshoot from the medbay.

Gabriel walks along side Angela, and they pass by a few familiar faces as they make their way towards the back. A smile catches his eye as he passes- Katie is at her station, working on some unknown thing, and not far behind her, a familiar, short Chinese woman freezes something intermittently, presumably testing it as it solidifies some unknown chemical. She seems to giggle as she does so, and it strikes an iota of fear into Gabriel that he can't quite explain. He and Angela come to a slow stop so that Katie and he can talk briefly.

“Hey chief. Want to meet for dinner later?” Katie calls him out of his stare as he glances back at her, and a smile easily finds his lips.

“You got it,” He responds casually, a brow lofting as he glances back to Mei. “ _Is she alright?_ ” He asks under his breath, and Katie's eyes flip back to the short woman for a moment before she laughs.

“Oh, her? She's fine. Don't you worry about her,” she chuckles again. “Anyway, here you are, back in one piece. It's good to see you. How you feeling?”

Gabriel, satisfied with her answer, shrugs and looks back at her. “Well enough. Glad to be home. We can talk later- I'd hate to interrupt uh... Whatever's going on here,” he smirks and she shakes her head gently, clasping his shoulder softly.

“That's alright- I wont keep you from your check up. He's all yours, doc.” Releasing him, her eyes shift to Angela with a warm nod, and the blond beams back at her.

“It's good to see you again, Katie. Genji tells me you're making good progress in the arena. I am excited to see you work, when you're ready.”

“Ah, well. I'll try to keep myself in one piece before my first mission then,” Katie muses, as Gabe's brows have lofted. This is the first time he's heard of Katie actually going on missions. His proud grin says more than he needs to speak, and shortly there after, he and Angela disappear into one of the rooms at the back, and she draws the curtain.

 

“So this isn't a feeding,” Gabe says, considering his shadows still haven't returned.

“No. Not exactly. This is an experiment,” she explains, moving to the back of the room. On a counter, there is a large flat platter with a lid over it, and Angela sets down a small blue medical cooler that she's been carrying ever since they met up. Gabriel stares at the two as he moves to stand near the table in the center of the room, a metal surgical table, cold to the touch. As expected, Angela sets the large platter onto the table, and then, the cooler. The lid comes off of it, and she reveals one large preserved vial of Gabriel's blood, and his eyes widen slightly. Without a doubt, he knows it's his, despite that that was not how it looked when it came out of him. It's black- darker than it's ever been before, and shadows waft off of it.

“You're not going to make me drink that, are you?”

“Don't be ridiculous,” the doctor scoffs. “But I will need to cut you. Soon.”

“W-What? Why? I'm not exactly healing normally here, doc.”

“ _Actually_ , you _are_ healing normally. You're just not healing like you're used to,” She corrects, setting the vial down on the table and sets the cooler aside. Then, without warning, the lid comes off of the platter, and Gabe is slightly taken by surprise by the way a severed half-arm as simply been laid out. It isn't fresh, but it's been frozen, just like his meals used to be. Now, it's a pale, unmoving thing sitting severed on a platter. His gut wants to wrench in a way it never would have before- not because he can't handle seeing it. No, Gabriel's seen war, so this was no problem- it's the idea, the realization that only a few months ago, this was _exactly_ how he was feeding while in the dreadful UN prisons...

“You see I noticed something odd about your blood. There's no way to do this test without you being here, physically.”

“Odd? You mean, beyond evolving, like you said before?”

“To what effect, Gabriel. That's what we're determining here. You see, I have discovered that your nanites have the ability to adapt to foreign... Invaders, if you will. They can interact with other nanites in a way that is almost... conscious. Almost sentient. They're clearly acting for a cause, seemingly for themselves... Constantly seeking self improvement and expansion. They are reproducing.”

“Reproducing? Haven't they always done that? Made more of themselves?”

“Yes, but that's not what I mean. That's... Like a cloning. A sort of mitosis. They clone, split and reform. But these? Yours? They're _breeding_.”

“What do you even _mean_ breeding?”

“With the new nanites I introduced into you. They found attributes that they found beneficial, and they're advancing. Some of them are splitting off and merging and creating new hybrid nanites. These?” She said, tapping the vial on the table. “These are the hybrids. We were able to isolate them through a particular filter. And now, I want to see what they do. Who they serve, so to speak. If they serve you, they will go to you if you're harmed, to heal you. If they are self serving, they will go to the dead flesh because it's easier to consume than living tissue.”

“Are you saying these things can move on their own, Angela?”

“Not far- not at all. Small amounts like this cant do much more than waver a little. Larger amounts? I can't say. It's hard to know for sure. Because the nanites I injected you with are nothing like the ones you have. Mine are... Strictly mechanical, so to speak. Yours seem to have a drive- a willpower.”

“... They're omnic.” Gabe deduces suddenly, brows popping, and a familiar uncertainty takes over him, brows knitting at once as anger tries to push into his mind.

“... I wouldn't go that far, but... The concept is there. They're definitely alive, Gabriel. Definitely living- and definitely _yours_. But these nanites? The ones I gave you? They're not. Not even minutely. This new blood might give you some strange effects.”

“Strange effects?”

“It all depends on what your nanites took from the others. They may have taken things that were unfavorable to you as a person... It all depends on what the nanites value when they're away from you, I guess.”

Then, without warning, the woman was reaching for a small scalpel on a counter behind her, and Gabe intuitively knew to extend his arm, dropping it next to the vial. He braced himself for the sting of the slice, and with her delicate touch, the cut was opened almost before he realized it had happened. His blood, a familiar bright red, immediately pooled out of the wound and drooled over the side of his arm onto the table. Angela meanwhile opened the vial, allowing the contents to flow out onto a flat plate she had set between them.

Then, they watched.

 

They watched as it seemed to do nothing.

A black pool of steaming, fogging goop that seemed not to move or waver, at all.

 

Until... There was suddenly a small ripple, like the pool had come awake. At first, the edges closest to the dead arm seemed to pull in that direction, the steam rising off of it leaning eerily in its direction, unable to reach or extend.

 

Gabe couldn't help his flinch backwards when the pool suddenly, abruptly changed direction, heading for his arm instead. “Christ, Angela, what is it doing!?”

“... Trying to go home, Gabriel. It senses you, somehow. It knows your blood. Your blood is part of it. _How fascinating_.” She was positively lost, staring at this small black pond that reached in vain towards Gabriel's significantly more alive arm, now a good two feet away in his uncertainty. But it _knew_ he was there all the same.

“Angela- stop. Stop it. Make it... Not do that. It's creepy,” He confessed, frown forming. Her blue eyes brightened and she looked up at him.

“Creepy? _Creepy?!_ No, Gabriel, this is a breakthrough. This is extraordinary.”

“Do I even want those kind of nanites in me?”

“You may not have a choice. Once I give yours back, they will inevitably try to do this, if they aren't already doing it, within you, if in very minute amounts. When I return your nanites to you, they will already be slightly modified, because they were modified when I took them from you... The change in them did not simply stop because I removed them.”

“So you're saying I can never go back to being the way I was?”

“I'm saying that you would have had to change regardless just to survive what happened. Your nanites are exceptionally good at keeping you alive, Gabriel... Almost like a virus that changes over time, quickly and necessarily, if it hopes not to be eradicated. My job is to make sure your nanites don't decide to start inhabiting... Other people. And by the look of things, they don't.” She looked overjoyed somehow, crouching as she did near the level of the table to stare at the black fog as it reached for him. Eventually, he crouched in front of her so that their eyes could meet.

“ _Angela,_ ” He growled, and she looked past the fog to him. “I'm still bleeding.”

“Oh! Right, of course. Let me get you something.”

“How can you be so happy about this?”

“I'm _happy_ , Gabriel, because it means you won't need to be quarantined. If your nanites were interested in anyone besides you, they'd have gone for the arm, and possibly myself as well. I will need to do some larger tests on bigger things, but it seems to me that they will only go for dead flesh if you're not available. They don't seem interested in going after living tissue otherwise. At least, not this small.”

“And if there were more, Angela? If there were as many as are in my body, on their own?”

She followed his line of thought carefully, standing slowly upright. “If there were enough of them that they could kill a man, you mean?”

“Enough of them to kill _anyone_ , do you think they would?”

“I think these nanites have been helping _you_ kill people for decades, Gabriel. Did you ever feel remorse over those people you fed from? Particularly while Talon's drug was in your system?”

“... No,” he replied after a moment's thought.

“Exactly. The nanites were allowed more control over you, your actions and your body because your own natural human instincts and morals were suppressed... They had no guidance, so they only did what they needed to to survive. What does that remind you of?”

It took another minute of thought, and he looked down at his bleeding arm, understanding coming into him. “An animal.”

“Precisely. If there were that many nanites in one place, that is what it would be. An animal... But do not fret. Animals can sometimes be tamed. There is no guarantee that it would be a monster... Besides, it would not last terribly long.”

“What do you mean?”

“The nanites rely on you to give them all the things they can't get on their own. Without you, they naturally die off, if slowly. That is why they are constantly multiplying and improving. Self preservation, as I said. Without you, there are things they cannot get. My guess is that this evolution is in effort to find a way to live without you. They evolve more without you than they do with you- that is why this change seems so sudden. You were in danger, so they had to start making a change, and they did, as soon as I gave them a means. Then, I filtered them _out_ of you, which caused them to evolve even faster... To little aid, it would seem, however, they still lack proper instincts. They learn from you, from what you do.”

“ _That means they're exceptionally good at killing,_ ” Gabriel rumbles, Reaper's voice in his mind. “We should be careful with this, Angela. We should never let this happen.”

“... Of course, Gabriel... You would have to actually die for them to abandon you, and even then, they might not survive it to keep themselves alive. Whatever killed you would damage them as well, as they would be doing their best to keep you alive, as they have before.”

“So if someone filtered them all out, entirely. Every nanite-”

“ _That would be exceptionally hard, Gabriel._ ”

“And then _killed_ me, and released those things, and gave them what they needed to keep going...”

“ _It's a theory_ , Gabriel... But an unlikely one. Don't dwell on it, alright? I'll have your nanites back to you soon enough, as soon as the tests are all done and I've made my reports.” She was pouring them back into the vial now with a funnel, and they rolled away, leaving the surfaces completely bare after a moments time, and she closed the bottle at last. The dead arm was then covered up with the same lid she had hid it with before. “Anyway. I'll be sending your medication to your room as usual.”

“Ah, actually... About that. I'd like to get off the meds, Angela.”

“... The memory medication, Gabriel? Why?” She asked, finishing jotting some things down in her notebook as she turned back to face him.

“Because... I suppose, I've already seen everything I feel like I need to. The memories come back on their own, even without the medication, but lately I haven't gotten anything, even with the medication. I think that maybe I have them all already, the memories I mean.” Well, he knew he didn't have all of them. He didn't know who the family was that Reaper had followed during the holidays, but they seemed so far out of reach now... Beyond him. Safer, somewhere else. Maybe he needed to let them go. “The UN wants me to put my old self behind, and that would be a lot easier to do if I wasn't constantly reminded of it...” He paused, wording himself carefully. “I just... This is who I am now. This is what I am. I'm not that guy anymore, Angela, and I need to accept that.”

After a pause, the doctor sighs and nods. “Alright... But I will warn you that this might not be safe. If a memory comes to you violently, you may end up having another episode like you had before. I would advise you to stay on them, but of course I won't force you. But, if you do have worsening issues, we may need to work out something else.” She trailed off, and the man said nothing. He was being stubborn with his decision not to stay on them, and ultimately she relented. “Let me bandage your arm, and take some more blood for testing.”

 

So she did, and later that night, Gabriel was having a drink in his room alone when Sombra arrived. The comm device of his room buzzed, and Gabe pushed himself up from his seat and went to the door without a fuss, now standing in front of the hacker who looked him over as if judging him.

“Hmm, and here I had hoped they would dress Cinderella up before her ball. Nevermind. Can I come in?” She asked in that assish tone, slipping passed him and into the room beyond. It had been a few months since she had seen it last, and some remodeling had been put in place, but besides that, the main layout had not changed. Gabriel's quarters were a comfortable set of rooms, like an apartment without a kitchen- a main room and a smaller bedroom with an attached bathroom. In the main room, the walls were a medium grey blue with black trim. A couch sat parallel to the front door, so that whoever walked in could effortlessly walk past it, instead of around it to get to the small table that sat in the back of the room, a rectangular thing with five seats. Just beyond that, attached to the wall, a standing minibar complete with a wooden counter- all stocked, noticeably. Framing the minibar on either side, a set of bookcases onto which several of his things had been placed- photos of old memories as well as new ones, such as the most recent holidays, and pictures of Rosa with her children, recently mailed to him. In front of the couch, a decent sized holo-screen sat above a fireplace, built right into the wall with dark grey brick. On the wall behind the couch, three screens had been brought in to display various moving images, like moving picture frames. At the moment, all three of them showed a familiar forest, somewhere in the deep woods near where the original HQ had been once upon a time, before Switzerland. Gabe hadn't had a chance to change them yet, and somehow he doubted he would.

Used to her antics, Gabriel let the door slide shut behind her, and followed after her as she abruptly plopped onto his couch.

“So, is this what passes as entertainment for old guys? What's this one?... Stargate? _Really?_ ”

“I'm not _that_ old. Christ, why does everyone keep saying that?”

“It's a joke, you know?” Sombra says idly hacking into the man's holo-screen and beginning to change the enhancements, from color to audio, making one of the main characters sound like first an android, then a woman, and then a chipmunk. She decided to leave it like that as she smirked, amused with herself. Gabriel, exhausted with her already, huffed through his nostrils.

“What do you want, Olivia? Why are you here?”  
“What? I'm not allowed to check in on a friend?”

“Is _that_ what you're doing? Checking in on a _friend? Is that what we are?_ ”

Feigning hurt, the hacker dropped her palm over her chest, as if offended. “Oh, come on Gabrielito, don't lie, I know you missed our little chats.”

“ _Like lions miss hyenas, Sombra._ ”

She smirked at him and half shrugged. A device was produced seemingly out of her palm and slid across the couch towards him, as he still stood nearby. “Just thought you'd want a little update.”

“An update?”

“Do you remember what we talked about the last time I saw you?”

“ _... Widowmaker._ ”

“Mhm.”

“Has anything changed?”

“It's hard to say. See for yourself,” She insists, canting her head at the device, a small grey oval lit up with purple lights in lines and circles, obviously one of Sombra's drones. Slowly, the man makes his way around the couch, scooping up the small item before coming to sit. Pressing a thumb into the center of the small device, it expands, flashing and momentarily lighting up the immediate area before a screen appears, projecting into the space between the two of them. The screen shimmers, a sign that the drone was in stealth when it took the footage. It circles a familiar castle, one Gabriel saw last time he and Sombra spoke. Its still quiet, still desolate, but there are clear signs of improvement to the place, or what he can see of it. New windows, a few new fresh coats of paint where he could see any, new plants in some of the flowerbeds... All shades of purple and blue with dark or pale leaves.

“She's moved in,” he says idly. “ _So what?_ Last time I fought with her, she was not herself, Olivia. Why do we persist?”

“Why did anyone persist over you, Reaper?” She asks sharply, making him wince internally. “My point is that... Yes. She's moved in. Why, though? She has Talon, doesn't she? They've been quiet ever since the fight, and she's... Here? We need to know why.”

“What, you think she retired? Please. It's _Widowmaker._ She's probably just... Look,” Gabe sighs. “If Talon is actually done, then all this means is that she's looking for new employment. The fact that she's staying in a _castle_ that she inherited implies that someone _knows_ she's there, and is protecting her. If Talon was gone, she'd be in hiding- if she didn't have _anyone_ to cover her tracks, she'd be hiding. The fact that she's living here, in plain sight, makes it obvious that she isn't, and that she isn't afraid of authorities. Just because we killed Akande and Moira doesn't mean Talon is _done_. There's always, _always_ someone next in line. Someone _else_ on the council. Either Widowmaker is still with Talon, or she has a new employer.”

“I think we should find out who,” Sombra smoothly replies, shrugging. “But you're forgetting something... Widowmaker was on the council, at least once or twice... What if _she_ -”

“If _She_ was leading Talon, she wouldn't be at her Chateau. She would be at a hub, headquarters or something. Planning. Moving. It's how she is. She doesn't sit still, she doesn't rest unless there is nothing else for her to do.”

“Do you think that's what it is? That she doesn't have anything to do right now?”

“No... I think she's waiting for orders.” They watched as the drone circled the citadel, creeping towards the window and spying the spider. She has installed a small stereo into one of the main rooms, and now the sound of it permeates through the place, hallowed and somehow sad, the sweet cry of a violin backed by the somber melody of a piano. The widow herself stood at a window, looking out over the lake, a bottle of wine in hand, already half gone- not Talon's variety, Gabriel could tell just by looking at it that it was not the same kind of bottle. That was something else, more expensive.

 

“ _And how long before she returns?_ ” Akande growled menacingly down the length of the table towards Maximilien, who had showed up in his finest attire, as always, a red and black suit to compliment the colors of his natural frame. They sit in an ancient meeting place in Rialto, a gleam of yellow and white lights shimmering down over them and illuminating the Talon insignia behind the high-backed chair that Akande occupies. The Doomfist himself is dressed as properly as his healing injuries will allow, a somewhat bulky overcoat to hide the bandages around his middle from the still-healing wounds that Moira has been constantly working on.

“Give her time, Akande. The Widow needs to recollect herself-”

“It's been _weeks_. We have jobs that need done.”

“And we have _other_ agents, don't we? What _jobs_ are so important that she must go now?”

“ _Overwatch is still-_ ”

“Overwatch?” The omnic laughs gently. It's a hideous, almost condescending sort of laugh that wouldn't suit most omnics, but it suits Max perfectly. His strategic, business-like mind is three steps ahead, as always. “You can't _possibly_ expect that you, Moira and Widow are enough to take down Overwatch, even with the Agents we have in the works, Akande. You must give us time to rebuild our ranks. We do not have the strength or ability to face them, especially not with the rumors that the UN and now Helix have joined their ranks. Even an army of some... Some _unknown_ omnics couldn't defeat them!”

“We were only _defeated_ at that battle because the omnics were lazy with their bomb... They _let_ Reaper in. Reaper is feeding them everything he can, against us!”

“Widowmaker is _not_ ready, Akande. You know that her mental state has been... Questionable lately. We're not entirely sure if she's in a workable state or not.”

“We can wipe her again. I will command Moira to make a stronger variant-”

“Widow's mind has already been wiped twice, Akande- any more, and we do not know what side effects it could start having on her. For all we know, this... This _madness_ she has was created _by_ the serum.”

“Moira assures me that she has done all she can for the woman.”

“And you believe her?”

“ _Moira_ has been doing all she can for me, too,” Akande hisses. Despite that he doesn't outright trust the geneticist- because he doesn't outright trust anyone- he knows that whatever she's doing right now is in Talon's favor.

“Moira is the reason Reaper escaped. You do understand that, don't you?”

“Escaped? It wasn't like he was trying to _run_. We didn't give him the answers he wanted- he got _smart_. That's all.”

“And how do you suppose that happened, Akande?” Max reaches up, a finger tapping the side of his metal skull. “He remembered. He remembered something and it started to come back, bit by bit. He stopped drinking the chemical. Widowmaker _too_ has stopped drinking our crop. If Moira had done her job properly...”

“Do you think she _wanted_ him to leave? Do you think she _also_ wants Widowmaker to leave? No. What are you saying I should do? You don't trust Moira, you don't think that Widow's safe enough to employ... Our numbers are already stretched thin as it is, Maximilien.”

“Find another ally,” Max says shortly. “The Vishkar are quickly becoming unreliable with the investigations the UN are putting upon them. Moira has proven ineffective at controlling Widowmaker, and I doubt the sniper would ever allow any kind of... Mechanical control over her. And what's more... We need to investigate these omnics.”

“ _What?_ ”

“The omnics that fought in the last battle, Akande. They're clearly _not_ on Overwatch's side...”

“You must be insane! They're not on _anyone's_ side! We don't even know who they are or what they're fighting for. They killed _dozens_ of our men in that battle- ran them down as if they were roaches!”

“So they're _formidable._ ”

“MAX!” Akande shouts, suddenly on his feet, palms pressed to the table, his glare staring down the length of the table to the omnic. “They are _NOT_ our friends! They want us dead just like everyone else. They will _not_ help humanity!”

“Perhaps not directly, Akande... But they can still be used as a tool to further strengthen humankind. Isn't that what you want?”

“ _And what do you want?_ You're omnic _too_ , Maximilien! How does this benefit _you?!_ ”

“Don't be a fool, Akande,” despite the Talon leader's irate nature, Max is calm, cool and collected. “I run a casino, of course. Do you know who my customers are? Do you know how I make money? _Not_ from omnics. Omnics are calculating and perceptive... Gambling is almost always about _deception and probability_... Things that Humans have comparatively low capacity for. If all of them die, then where am I? No where.”

“So _what_ then? We ally ourselves to these omnics and use them? How? At what point do we sever the ties and end them as well?”

“Mmnh...” The omnic's calculating, thoughtful hum was unsettling. “I suppose... Whenever they are no longer strong enough to be a threat to us. We can try to subvert some of them. At the very least, we should find out what their goal is... Extend the proverbial olive leaf to them. Keep what people we do have _out_ of their crosshairs.”

Akande is quiet for a long moment, considering the man's words before his brows knit tightly and he looks down, slowly straightening up to his full height and looking down his nose at the omnic.

“Fine. But _you_ will go and meet with them yourself.”

“I am _hardly_ a diplomat-”

“You _will_ go, Maximilien. If you want to prove what this company means to you, you will go. You're an omnic, so you're the only diplomat we need. You have a way with words, don't you? You convince people all the time in your casino, in your favor. Do it now, with her- the one they call the Queen.”

“And how exactly am I suppose to find her?”

“We have already located a cluster where many of them fled when escaping the battle. They have been on the move ever since. I will have you sent with an escort. If they don't immediately kill you, you will invite her to talk. We'll go from there.”

Slowly, Maximilien stands. He isn't pleased with the idea of going to meet some unknown omnic, but so long as Akande is finished prying into his personal motives, he's satisfied.

“Very well,” he replies calmly as he straightens his suit. “Then we'll be in contact,” he adds as he turns and heads out of the room, ignoring the unsettling glare Akande gives him. What did Maximilian care about Talon's cause? To better humanity by means of conflict? Humanity, he was often reminded by Akande himself, that he was not exactly a part of, being an omnic. There weren't a _lot_ of omnics in Talon, but those who were there all seemed to have the same mentality, the same sense of understanding that he did, an unspoken truth that many humans chose to ignore.

… But Overwatch had forgotten something. Something very important.

Someone.

 

Her.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading guys! I know this chapter is a little slower, but it's all for good build up, I hope you enjoyed it anyway!
> 
> Let me know what you think!


	3. Gilded

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Not wanting to spoil anything, but this chapter ends on a VERY heavy note that some may find uncomfortable.

Since the attack several weeks ago, it's become public knowledge that Talon and the omnic Forces were working separately, and that they were not actually one company, despite that the unknown omnic forces had first used Talon guises in their attacks in an effort to heighten the war between Talon and Overwatch. They had fought the same people, but also each other. Both sides has taken lives, and though they were sometimes in one another's favor, they'd never worked _together._

 

_At least, not until now._

 

Max never felt nervous or intimidated. Why would he? He was an omnic, and at some point, he'd had all of the physical pain receptors _removed_ from his frame, only a few years after he achieved consciousness and decided he didn't need them. Pain was for humans, he had decided, and he was decidedly not among them.

 

Yet now... Sitting here on a yacht just off the shore of Zadar, Croatia, Max could not have felt more excluded, more out of place. Though, this scheme had all been put on in an effort to “make him comfortable” and keep prying, suspicious eyes from knowing anything different. Though he wasn't too terribly far from his home in Monaco, it wasn't as if he could simply walk home- it was still easily a flight away from here... But this was all that the Queen would allow, allegedly. As promised, Akande's intel had tracked down a few of the omnic loyalists to their hiding place- a small omnic hub that was hardly more than a warehouse, and from there, they had transmitted a message to their “Queen.”

But she would not meet with him. Not in person, at least, not yet. So for now, it was this yacht, a long vessel of white siding and dark red wood decks, floating on a turquoise sea, a mile out from the shore, which was dotted with tourists and townsfolk, a few cars, but most boats in the harbor. It was a gorgeous day, far too bright for his liking- he much preferred the nightlife scene.

 

Nearby are casually dressed loyalists, and though he rarely sees it, there is a marking, clearly made by some kind of corrosive acid, that marks many of them, usually on their chests or backs, not all exactly the same size, but all of them baring the same insignia... A Crown. A wicked, malformed seeming crown, but a crown all the same in varying shades of char- whatever shade the omnic had been beneath the marking before it was made. Some of them even bare the mark on the back of their necks. These omnics usually dressed a little nicer, as if signifying rank. Out here on the yacht, none of them took great measures to hide the markings, but on shore, it was a different story. All of these men were... unique. Max could tell that they had been “wild” omnics before coming to this cause, though he couldn't help but wonder to what means, what _reasoning_ had lead them into the Queen's service.

 

“Over here, Darling.” The voice was smooth, so much so that for a moment he failed to notice the slightly echoed, mechanical tone at the back of it that gave her away as an omnic. Her words direct him to a small rectangular box that looks much like an old fashioned radio of some kind, but it's clearly a new mechanism. “Don't look so disappointed,” the Queen half crooned towards him, despite that most omnics had no expression. “You couldn't honestly expect me to show up in person, did you? Do you think me so foolish?” She laughed at him, despite that he'd said nothing. “Frankly, I'm surprised you showed up yourself... A risky thing. We killed many of your people, didn't we?”

“Yes,” he said suddenly, keeping his voice otherwise calm so as not to arouse any suspicion that he might be nervous. “But you also killed quite a lot of Talon's enemies along the way, didn't you?”

She laughs again, a dark sort of thing. “A means to an end, but spare me the flattery, Maximilien, I know who you are, and why you're here. You didn't honestly think that I would _steal_ Jinx from you and then not make good use of him, did you?” Condescending, arrogant. Key details he picks out of the woman, which strikes him... Odd. Most omnic had at least a _modicum_ of humility.

“That's why I'm here, isn't it? To find out who you are, and to extend an offer.”

“An offer? _Cute_. What does Talon have that I could possibly want? Or... Need, for that matter?”

“That would depend entirely on what your goal is.”

“Oh come now. Isn't it blatantly obvious? I haven't exactly made any great attempts at hiding my goals... I would think that anyone with an even vaguely perceptive mind would be able to grasp it in seconds.”

“You want to see Overwatch gone, of course... But you weren't attacking _just_ Overwatch.”

“Let me spare you your breath, _Max_ ,” the shortening of his name was aggressive in this instance. “There is no _deal_ you can make to me. There is _nothing_ Talon has that I want or require... It's only a pity that I'll have to watch such an intellectual, cunning omnic like yourself go to waste in the process.”

Max says nothing. It's clear that she's made up her mind, but there are a few things in her words that give her away.

“So, it's the humans, then. You wont ally with Talon because its ideology perhaps directly conflicts with your own... Is that right? Have you considered what might happen when all of the humans are gone?”

“... Oh, Cunning, but uneducated. Do you _really_ think that we _need_ the humans to exist? To have _true_ life?” She abruptly laughs, that harrowing, metallic sound that causes even Max's sensors to shudder in their sockets, not visible to anyone there, luckily. At his silence, the Queen continues. “Answer me this, Omnic. You fight for a cause designed solely to strengthen humans... But when was the last time the humans _actually_ tried to strengthen _you?_ Do you think that if by some miracle, Akande's war is successful, that _you_ will even be allowed to reap any of the benefits of it? Or, do you suppose he will see that you have served your purpose, and simply... Dispose of you? Don't you wonder _why_ it is that Talon employs so few omnics? And, those he does, he sends on suicide missions. Why? Because he thinks they're weak. _Expendable._ I imagine that's the only reason he sent _you_ here, isn't it?”

Again, Max remains quiet. He doesn't want to admit that she's right... But she is. Still, her lecture persists.

“Talon, meanwhile, is quite literally crippled. Crippled so much so in fact that they reach out for aid, not only to me, but to the Shimada Clan as well, and countless other smaller, but equally powerful forces scattered across the globe. No one wants to simply _tell_ you what I'm about to. Are you ready? Talon is _dying_. Like a cancer, you are ceasing to function from your very _core._ Reaper has not only abandoned you, but betrayed you. Widowmaker is... Who knows where, doing who knows what, _with who knows who,_ otherwise indisposed. Moira is... Well...” She chuckles- there's almost a touch of affection to her voice. “Moira is a flawed, selfish, greedy creature- I confess, I see a lot of myself in her, but she does not have the knowledge that I do, not the capability to execute as I _intend_ to. Moreover, she is shackled to whatever rules your tribal brute of a leader lays out for her, and I have a feeling that even _that_ pact is tenuous at best. You're falling apart, and Talon is on a quickly losing side. Is that a side that _you_ want to be on, Maximilien?”

He can feel the whirring inside his chassis slow and tremble, the extremely faint whirring silence itself down into near-nothingness... He imagines that this is what it must feel like for humans, when their heart _skips a beat,_ as it were. This was not what he expected, to be laid so openly, so bare to this unknown entity, let alone to be put on the spot by her.

“Are you offering me an alternative?” He asks bluntly. Again, cheerily, the Queen laughs.

“I am offering you food for thought, Maximilien. That's all. I will do you the pleasantry of not killing you, but I will send you back with a message instead... The Gilded Conclave is _coming,_ and when they arrive, _if_ you, if Talon is in our way, they _will_ die. If you want to survive, I would _highly_ suggest you stay smart, and keep hiding in your little underground _rat_ holes. Do we understand each other, _Ambassador?_ ”

His eyes are fastened upon this small, dark box that has been lecturing him now for several minutes- he hates the way this _bitch_ is talking to him. Does she know _not_ who he is? _Oh but she does! She's made it very clear that she does,_ and _that_ is the most insulting part of it. But... She's also suggesting that she might spare his life, if he were to advise Talon to keep their distance... It was something he'd have to keep in the back of his mind.

“ _Indubitably, your majesty.”_ Equal sarcasm to throw back in her face... For just once, Max wished he had _some_ kind of ability like all of the other Talon Agents seemed blessed with, if only so that he could reach through the talking box just to strangle this... This woman.

“Then farewell. Soldiers, take this man back to shore. I'm sure he can find his way home from there.” Soldiers seemed like a strange thing to call her collection of branded, omnic, radical loyalist militia, but he wasn't going to press the point here and now- they very well could throw him into the sea, and the idea of walking out didn't seem... Pleasant. Even he might die if left down there too long... Or if something _ate_ him.

 

Three hours later, Akande was hardly pleased with the news, and abandoned the meeting in a furious rage that left at least one door completely off its hinges, insisting that they _had_ to find a way to convince the Shimada clan- something Max almost tuned out as he continued to weigh the strength behind the Queen's words.

 

“Come on, Gabe. You can't keep telling me you're too _tired_ to spar,” Jack chides with a smirk from the sidelines. “I know for a _fact_ that you have _plenty_ of energy.”

“ _Jack!_ ” Gabe snaps, doing his best not to flush in front of Katie- and Jaelen, who groans nearby at the lewd implications. Katie stands across from him in a defensive pose, hands up.

“Come on Gabe, I never got the full treatment like you boys did, so this should be a fair fight! Angela cleared you for combat-”

“ _No,_ ” Gabe insists suddenly, “She said I could do _gentle_ sparring. There is nothing about _anyone_ here that is gentle.” Katie snorts.

“Sounds like someone's _chicken_.”

“Oh for christ's sake-”

“ _Ba-cawk._ ” Jay's side-line addition stops Gabriel's words and he glares at her.

“Fine. _Fine._ But if I get hurt, that doctor's going to be _real_ mad. Do you know what she _does_ to people when she's mad at them?” A brief flash, a nightmare involving a speedo and a doctor's office full of shocked voices rings distantly through his memory. “On you, _Hall_.”

“ _Oh, he's feisty, he's using last names,_ ”

“ _SHUT UP, MORRISON._ ”

Jack can't help the stupidly happy little grin that crawls its way onto his features- he's eager, excited to see Gabe fight again after what feels like a decade. Gabriel always looked good when he was fighting, a calculated, deadly sort of predator that out-skilled his opponents through strategy backed by _raw_ strength. And there was something about the way Gabriel moved, the way he always had moved as long as Jack had known him that seemed to push the boundaries slightly beyond what seemed truly _human._ And Jack? He couldn't get enough of it. Getting this cautious all-clear from Angela was something of a go-ahead for their more intimate activities, and he was- they both were- relieved not to have to hide it anymore.

The spar itself started the way they usually did, with someone making some kind of aggressive, forward advance. Katie was slow at first, actually testing Gabriel's capabilities and slowly ramping up her speed and strength until they were a fair match. Sweat began to bead on Gabe's forehead, and while there was a dull ache somewhere in his spine, the rest of his body felt... Alive, for once. It felt good to not be _cold_ , or _weak_. Feeling his heart beating in his chest, though it was entirely human, was a sensation he hadn't really felt since SEP, and slightly after that. His heart had beat as Reaper, but it had never quite felt the same, thanks to the nanites. They kept up with him so well, so fast, that his body rarely had to exert itself as much as it did right now... And it felt good to him, to feel human again.

Eventually, Gabriel yields with a few new bruises, if only because he feels truly exhausted, and he's starving, but Jack is enthusiastic about it when he's finally done, slipping into the ring to help Gabriel off of his pinned spot on the floor. “You look like you could use a shower, Soldier,” Jack says as he smirks down at Gabe, extending a hand and hauling him up.

“Hey you two, don't go getting distracted,” Katie cants her head towards a holo-screen on the wall, where an itinerary of events is being listed and scrolled by. On it, there's a new meeting scheduled specifically just for Gabriel and Winston. A brief of some kind, most likely.

“Damn,” Gabe sighs, glancing towards Jack, who looks entirely let down. Huffing, Gabe leans in abruptly and pulls him into a reassuring kiss, if somewhat aggressive, which has the side effect of making Jay roll her eyes and walk off with little more than a “Gross. See you later, guys,” as she heads out the door. Jack's eyes seem to brighten as they open again, staring into Gabe's chestnut stare. For a moment the thought crosses through his mind- _he's back-_ the old Captain that he fell in love with in the first place, the man that he entrusted with... So many hard decisions. So much _dirty_ work. Guilt flitters through him, but it's brief as Gabe slides his fingers into Jack's and leads him out of the sparring pit. “Come on,” he says, “We've gotta eat, and I'm fucking _dying_ of hunger here. Have lunch with me.”

“Winston wants to see you in an hour.”

“Then it's going to be a fast lunch, isn't it?”

 

Winston ended up waiting an extra half hour for Gabriel to arrive, but at least when he did, he was full, and he was clean. “Commander- sorry I was late... I didn't figure you wanted to see me in my sparring fatigues.”

“ _Gabriel,_ I wasn't aware that shorts and a tank-top were considered fatigues.” Winston seems _mildly_ peeved that he's been forced to wait. As usual, the pleasantries between the two are minimal.

“... Ah. You were watching, then.”

“I was curious to see how your first fight after your return home would go. Miss Hall is a good candidate, but she's been training with Genji.”

“...Sir?” Gabe failed to grasp the gorilla's point, and the ape shrugged.

“Neither of the Shimada brothers fight like the common rabble that we often face in our missions here. Most of our enemies- Talon, namely, fight with ground, grapple tactics. They're almost useless without their guns, most of them. I would suggest training against Agent McCree.”

“... With all due respect, Winston, I haven't fought Jesse in ages- he doesn't even _like_ sparring. He doesn't like doing _anything_ without his gun.”

“Exactly- it makes him a perfect candidate to test you.”

“Sir, is there another reason you wanted to meet me here?” Gabe seriously doubted that Winston called him into the briefing room simply to talk about his physical training.

“Yes, of course,” the ape said, sliding a manila folder across the table towards where Gabe stood, and the man finally sat, sinking onto the seat and sagging backwards, pulling the folder into his hands and sliding it open. “For the time being, I am assigning you as a Head of Operations, as a sort of council for some of our newer recruits.”

“This mission is for Jaelen.”

“Exactly, who you have a deep connection with, which should make the experience easy for the both of you. It will keep you not only informed and involved with our operations, but also out of the line of fire until you are truly back to form.”

“So... Is this a promotion?” Gabe asks, one brow lofting faintly. Typically, Operation Heads were only very seasoned agents who had a keen intellect on their agents and how they could best be utilized, and where they could be employed, and what to do with those agents when things got rough. Jack and Ana both already had this title, as Ana had Headed most of the operations Gabriel had been on before now.

“Don't let it go to your head, Reyes. This is just a formality to keep you out of trouble while you heal. You're safer here than in Fiji, and it's important that our recruits, old and new, get used to working with you on a regular basis. Additionally, it was becoming a bit cumbersome to have all _three_ Agents out there looking after you- not including Angela. I needed them here.”

“... I wanted to thank you for that, Commander,” Gabriel finally says. His voice his sincere. Winston's gaze meets his, oblivious, questioning. Gabe elaborates. “You didn't have to do that. You could have just sent me to Fiji to recover with a set of grunts with guns... But you didn't. You sent Jack, and Jesse and Jay. You sent the people that you knew would _die_ to protect me, knowing full well what it would mean if such a thing actually happened. On the other hand, you could have just sent me to a UN recovery facility, where they may well have simply let me die... I'm no fool, Winston. I know that you and I have a sordid history, and I know that sometimes I don't follow the rules to the letter- which you hate. Which _most_ authorities hate. I know that the UN would have rather simply let me die on that battlefield because it would have been easier than trying to incorporate me back into civilized society...  
But you didn't let that happen. You sent me to a safe place with people who regard me as family- you sent our _top_ physician to make sure that my health was unparalleled. You did all that... After everything I've _done-_ ”

“What you _did_ is in the past, Gabriel,” Winston cuts him off before the man can even begin the downward spiral of guilt that lingers in the back of his mind. “What you _did_ on that battlefield, and even before that, saved hundreds of thousands of lives. You did so willingly, quickly, without thought to what cost it might enact on you- or, if you did think about that cost- you were _willing_ to pay it to see that those people _lived._ ” For a long moment, the two are quiet as they stare at each other, and the Ape looks down. “I sat quietly in my base at Gibraltar for years, silent, unwilling, unmotivated to pick up where Morrison left off for years. Unable to do what you did. Unable to risk myself and all that I had done and gone through to see that people were helped. It wasn't until Talon started to gain speed that I realized that was what separated me from the old heroes- Morrison, Amari, and... You, Reyes. I think that finally, I am beginning to understand why it is that Morrison chose you to do what you did for Overwatch, within Blackwatch. Though the methods were not always ethical or clean, work got done, and people survived because of it. We got through the crisis _because_ of your leadership, regardless the media outcry that our actions caused us. Sometimes, we will _need_ someone who can make the hard calls- someone who needs to remind us of what needs to happen where our hopes and dreams might make us hesitate. It isn't an ideal way of doing things, but then, few things ever are that are effective. Being a hero sometimes means having to let someone die. I understand that. You understand that. It felt like letting you die, though it would have been the easy thing to do, would have been a massive misstep. You have committed yourself to this cause now, and you have paid multiple prices because of it. You've been through a lot of trauma along the way... And I think it's high time we put down this weighted mantle of who you _used_ to be. This is who you are now... Accept it without question... And for god sake, put _on_ the white tactical gear. I think the UN is going to crawl down my throat if they don't at least see you in it once.” Winston finishes his heartfelt words with a small laugh, and Gabriel chuckles, shrugging.

“I'll try it on, Commander, but I make no promises.”

Winston huffs with a laugh and nods. “Very well. Anyway,” his head cants at the folder that Gabriel has resumed thumbing through. “I'm sending her to Columbia. It's her first solo mission. You will be on the ship with her, but when she disembarks, she will be alone. There is an alleged Talon warehouse there that we need to scout. I've seen significant activity coming and going through it now for two solid weeks... We are, after all, still looking for the gauntlet. I have no doubt that Talon will use whatever means necessary to keep it hidden from us, and Cardinal is turning out to be an extremely effective scout.”

“So, this is an intel mission. No combat?”

“Not so far as she can avoid it-”

“You don't know Jaelen very well,” Gabe chuckles, smirking. “That girl is as likely to get into a fight as two drunkards at a bar fighting over the same beer. Silence is still something she's working on.”

“Precisely. That is why I'm sending you to keep her in line-”

“ _Oh Christ,_ ” Gabriel murmurs.

“Have hope, Reyes. She'll learn. Anyway, I think that's about all I have planned for you right now. I will mention that Angela stated something about having you do some work out in the envirodomes.”

“More gardening, Commander?”

“She says that the heat and the physical activity will help strengthen your weakened muscle. It's just an advisement, not a command, Gabriel. I am sure you'd like to get back to being yourself just as much as the rest of us would like for you to.”

“ _You have no idea._ ”

 

Later, Gabriel's feeling the first pangs of real hunger as he faces off against Jesse in the training arena. As usual, it's little more than a square pad of foam big enough for a couple people, no more than four, to grapple on, with enough room around the side to avoid any spectators getting kicked in the face. In the last few days, it's as if his body _knows_ it's officially out of the comfy, cushy, tropical paradise that is fiji, and has settled quickly back into the familiar old habits he adopted back in early military life- a straighter posture, an unending appetite, and a dire _need_ to be active. Jesse has gotten into plenty of fist fights, though he seemed to prefer ending them with a peacekeeper's warning if he ever got the chance. He insisted that he didn't like that 'pretty face' of his getting marked up... So for this spar, Gabe had been forced to promise _not_ to go for the good looks just to win.

Reluctantly, Jesse had agreed, knowing that sometimes Gabriel didn't play fair- that was part of what made him Gabriel, after all. But, Gabe had decided that, if he truly wanted to test his strength, he would have to rely on his ability to take down Jesse without any theatrics or special gimmicks, especially not those like that he learned in SEP. Instead, it was just a simple hand to hand, maybe a leg here or there brawl. Head down, fists up. Jesse had clearly kept up his figure, at least for the most part- Gabe could note at least an extra inch or two of 'cushion' where the alcohol had done Jesse no favors in the last few years. That said, it didn't stop one or two of the other female trainees from offering a whistle or two when the cowboy's shirt was tossed away.

“Is that _really_ necessary?” Gabe asked as he finished wrapping his hands in some cloth to ease the blows somewhat.

“Hell, you know it. I ain't gonna go an' get blood on my favorite button-down.”

“You've got three shirts just _like_ that one. What makes you think you'll bleed anyway?”

“ _They ain't all the fuckin' same,_ ” the man rebukes quietly under his breath. “'Sides. I know you, boss. You don't much like playin' by the rules if memory serves me right.” Word had gotten around quickly about Gabriel's minor promotion, but even to him, it felt fast. A year ago, he was barely even _in_ Overwatch...

… A year ago. A _year_ ago, he had abandoned Talon and all their lies. And for several months, he had been back with Jack... A thing that he could hardly comprehend. It had all happened so fast, and how? He'd been through so much in such a short time. His eyes shifted down, recalling the memory that Jesse stirred to the surface of his mind.

 

~

 

Moira had a point, didn't she? The conversation he had with her hours prior to their drop in Rialto echoed in his head.

“Do you really think that this mission, that imprisoning Antonio is going to make any kind of difference in the war against Talon?”

“It's definitely a start- and it's our mission. The First Strike Commander has strict morals, Moira-”

“Morals. Of course he does, Commander. I am not arguing our leader's motives, but I, like you, desire true results. When I first joined this company, you told me that I could help make a difference here, in Blackwatch. You told me that my scientific advances were incredible, and that if anyone could use it, you could... Even if the rest of the world didn't see its full applications. You told me that Blackwatch wasn't under the same restrictions. Has that changed? Are you and Jack still...?”

“...No. And that's none of your god damned business. Things have been tense ever since... Maybe even since before Gerard. He's in recovery now because I wasn't observant enough. Moira-”

“Commander... Do not blame yourself for what happened to Lacroix. That attack was not something that _anyone_ could have anticipated. If _anyone_ could have been aware of the infiltration, the bomb, don't you think it would have been the Strike Commander himself?”

“I _can't_ put that on him-”

“... No. _Of course_ you can't... But the fact remains. He relies on you to pick up the pieces where his strategy wains. He has always called upon you for such things- for decades now. You were his superior once... You got us through the crisis, didn't you?”

“We have one job, O'Deorain. Get in, get Antonio, and get out. It's a simple job.”

“Talon is not so simple. I know that. You know that. I just want to know we're not killing ourselves here.”

“We _won't_ die. I'll get us out of there. You just... Follow my lead, alright?”

“You don't know what you're going to do?”

“Of course I do but-”

“It's not like you not to have a plan, Gabriel,” Moira laughed gently, and Gabriel growled, his brows growing fierce as smoke wafted off of his frame as his emotion plumed slightly. “Relax, Commander, I'm only jesting!” She tried to ease him, and Gabriel sighed, looking down as he dropped his shoulders, trying to settle his nerves. These small bouts of rage had become more and more prevalent in recent weeks. Stress, she had said, and he readily believed. He _was_ stressed. Seeing Jack like he had become was rough for Gabriel, even if they hadn't slept in the same bed in a year or more. They had still _tried_ to remain close, even if it seemed harder and harder to do so as every night ticked by.

 _“I have multiple plans,_ ” Gabriel had finally growled out, managing to calm himself only barely. “They just depend on Antonio himself.”

“That should prove... Interesting. Regardless, Commander, I trust that you will make the right decision for all of us.”

“... Thank you, Moira.” It was nice to hear that from someone, even if it was the one person that no one else in either Overwatch or Blackwatch seemed to approve of.

 

Then, the ship had dropped, and they'd gotten in- easily almost, and made their way to Antonio's office. The short conversation there after was a bruise in Gabriel's mind- it was hard to believe that one day, he'd forget the sound of the gunshot and the sound of the shattering glass there after... Or the hideous rattling of chain guns for that matter.

 

He and Jesse had never been quite the same after that. Jesse had seen then, known _then_ that something was going wrong with Gabe. Jesse, no longer a boy, had become a man- and a perceptive one at that. If ever he had trusted Moira, whatever little bit of it there was had been eliminated that day.

 

Jack hadn't quite looked at him the same either. That was when the last little pieces of them had faded. Jack had seen that the last of the Gabriel he had known and trusted had slipped away somehow.

“I told you I couldn't sanction this, Gabriel! How could you- _you could have died!_ You all could have! And now the UN is breathing down our necks- t _he whole world is demanding answers, Gabriel! What am I suppose to tell them!? That, that... That Blackwatch doesn't answer to anyone?_ That you run by your _own_ rulebook that I have no say in? No! I needed you to do this for us. I have _trusted_ you for so long. I have _covered_ for you for... _So. Many. Years. Gabriel!_ I can't... I can't do it anymore. I'm sorry. _I don't know who you're becoming, but this isn't who we are._ They're going to launch an investigation, Gabe, and I can't stop them. I can't. I'm sorry. I wish it was-”

“ _Just stop, Morrison._ ”

That stung, even then. Hearing that voice out of Gabriel after so long. He hadn't heard it much since they stopped sleeping together, and in truth, Jack had hoped that it was gone. He had hoped that _whatever_ Moira was doing to Gabe was helping him, but from what footage he had seen in Rialto, he wasn't so sure. He had no idea what that thing was, what it was that Gabriel could do, or _become_. The man had been tight-lipped about it, and of course, almost all of the footage that had been stolen of it had been reclaimed by the UN, or outright erased before it reached the public to prevent any kind of panic.

Mostly because it _resembled_ something that people had seen before...

A ghost that had had emerged some time ago, although very rarely... Mostly rumors, as the creature had only been spotted perhaps once or twice... Most people considered it a hoax, or a trick of the lens, about as elusive as a snow yeti, or a space hamster. No one had thought anything of it then, and no one would until Reaper began working, officially, for Talon.

“You have wanted this for a long time, Jack,” Gabe had said as Ana stormed out of the room in disbelief. “Just face it. You have needed me for exactly this for a _long_ time. If we didn't do this, he'd have gotten free, and all of it would have been for nothing. We need to start sending Talon a stronger message- that we're not _fucking_ around. They hurt our people, we hurt theirs- an _eye for an eye,_ right?”

“We're not _murderers_ , Gabriel! This was an unplanned execution and you know it-”

“You talked to the kid, did you?” Gabe could tell by Jack's almost word-for-word recant of Jesse's dispute over the entire event.

“I read his report, just like I read Genji and Moira's... And now? I'm trying to get yours. You're trying to play this off like some kind of a hero, but there is no way that you and I come out of this cleanly.”

“Well you see, Jack, that's where you and I differ. You want to play the hero _every_ time. But we can't. We're not heroes. We're Soldiers. And _sometimes_ , to be a good _soldier_ you have to be a _monster. Sometimes,_ the results _justify_ the means. Antonio needed to die. It was a decisive victory. You and me? We've _always_ been murderers. Say what you want about patriots being _exempt_ , but at the end of the day, everyone, everyone who fights is fighting for something _they_ believe is right. Some people are willing to die for it, and sometimes, you need to kill people to prove that they're wrong. _Those_ are the rules of the _living,_ not of the _United States,_ Jack. Every animal on this earth fights to survive. And me? Well it sure as hell isn't going to be those sick terrorist bastards if I have anything to say about it. I did what we needed to do. Don't cover me if you can't, but don't you dare try to tell me it wasn't what had to happen.”

“Gabriel!”

“Strike Commander?” The lack of a name had cut Jack deeply, and his lips pulled into a frown.

“... So be it, Commander Reyes. You're dismissed. I will have another briefing for you once I know what's happening. You're grounded to your quarters. No missions, no leaving, no outside chatter of any kind. Are we understood?”

“... _Yes, Sir,_ ” Gabriel growled back, then rose and sulked away.

 

~

 

“Playing by the rules isn't always fun, Jesse,” Gabe replied as smoothly as he was able to the man standing across from him on the sparring pad. “But I can promise you that times have changed. I'm not going to add any new scars to your self-sacred jawline, alright? Besides, I'm _barely_ out of the med-bay! You've been in at least a half-dozen bar fights in the last four months, I'm sure. _You've got this in the bag,_ ” He teased, trying to make light of the old sentiment. It was clear that Jesse already sort of regretted saying the words in the first place- he must have seen the sour memory flicker across Gabriel's dark features.

 

The first few swings were nothing extravagant, and they were both pulling their punches at least a little bit. Gabriel brings his arms up to block, and aims a low swing at Jesse's gut, which is easily deflected. Gabe's slower than usual, and Jesse is pulling his punches.

During the fight, he feels something... Odd.

It's not pain exactly, but more of an ache... But not the kind that suggested he was actually hurt or worn out... It was a yearning, a need... A craving.

Hunger.

Hunger, not like the human hunger he was used to, but something older, that familiar dark pull, that need for just a little something _extra._ It expressed itself almost completely without his knowing, speeding up his swings and suddenly throwing more weight behind them than he had intended. Jesse staggers backwards, brows raised in surprise, giving Gabe a look.

“Oh, so we're goin' to play hard now, alright. Thanks for the heads-up, _jefe._ ”

“Jesse, I didn't mean t-”

The cowboy is suddenly advancing, swinging this time more quickly, stronger, enough to make Gabriel back up almost to the edge of the mat. Hands meanwhile are up, faster, and more keen on _grabbing_ than deflecting. That was a telling sign. Grabbing felt natural, like a predator latching on with its jaw. And when he did, he felt something almost like a static shock that ran through him through those hands, where he touched... But Jesse didn't even seem to notice. Clearly, he hadn't felt it at all. But Gabriel _hadn't_ imagined it. Something had definitely just happened, however minor. He felt stronger, if only just barely. The distraction, however fast, was enough for Jesse to suddenly advance past Gabriel's defenses and put him on the ground, breath knocked out of him.

Dazed and mildly surprised, Gabe stares up into the brilliant lights of the training room before Jesse's slightly blurry silhouette comes into view.

“Christ almighty, you alright? Didn't figure I'd blindside you like that... Hope the fall didn't give you a concussion. You alright?”

“... Yeah. I'm alright, I think,” Gabe says, reaching up to take the hand extended down to him. Back on his feet finally, he staggers backwards slightly, but McCree holds him steady.

“Hell,” he curses under his breath. “Knocked somethin' loose, didn' I? Well shit, Ziegler's goin' t'have my head. You should probably go an' see her before you uh... Yanno. Pass out or somethin'.”

“I'll take him,” the sudden voice of a spectator cuts in, rough, familiar, warm. Jack's been there watching, but for how long? Gabe had no idea. He almost flushes with embarrassment.

“Ah! Hey Jack-o.”

“ _Don't call me that._ ” The correction is so immediate that it makes Gabriel smirk.

“Good. His 'sitter's here. Good I guess, that sure took somethin' out of me...” He seems to sigh, trying to catch his breath.

“He's not my _sitter,_ ” Gabe utters, smile erased.

“Right, well, you gents have a good evening,” Jesse rebukes obliviously and leaves Gabe standing on the mat now that Jack has approached to lend Gabriel a shoulder to lean on if he needs it. “You alright? That looked... A little rough. What _was_ that?” Slowly as the dark man begins to catch his own breath, they make their way towards Angela's office, in the med bay.

“You saw it?” Gabe asks as soon as McCree is out of earshot.

“Saw... What? You go all starry-eyed and then hit the deck? Yeah I saw that.”

“Ah... N.. No. Nevermind.”

“... Why? What happened? I figured you just got distracted or something.”

“Well, I was... It's probably nothing. Let's just see what Angela says, alright? For all I know, I didn't get enough electrolytes at breakfast or something.” But something in his mind told him that really wasn't it... And now, the more he thought on it, he could remember that old ache. Specifically, that craving. That power. That was the way it had felt when he had openly consumed those Talon men while they were _still alive. In fact it was exactly that, a surge of raw hunger backed with immediate power. Immediate healing._ This was something he'd definitely have to talk to her about.

 

Angela ended up sending him back to bed with little more than a bruised ego and a new bandaid over the crook of his arm. _Keep an eye on it,_ she said, not seeming too concerned.

 

If she wasn't concerned, he probably shouldn't be either, right? Jesse seemed fine, other than a little tired. So, for the time being, he put it out of his mind, especially now, when Jaelen's mission was at hand. Columbia always seemed to feel hot, though Gabriel had been here a few times before, he'd never been to this specific, remote location.

“Why are warehouses always in the fuckin' jungle?” the wired scout was saying, already preparing herself for the drop. “Last time, our ship got shot out of the fuckin' sky and we had to all sweat our asses off out in the dark all night long.”

“Oh?” Gabriel raises a brow at her as he adjusts his hood slightly, resting his head back against the wall of the cabin from the side seats where the two sit. Per Winston's insistence, Gabriel's wearing the new set of gear that had been made for him, physically almost identical, but pure white, fresh, clean, imposing, even he has to admit. It makes him feel something like a true ghost, which he both likes, and hates. On one hand, he likes feeling intimidating, but on the other, he's spent what feels like the whole last fourteen months trying to convince people he _isn't_ actually dead, so the ghost theme feels like a minor step backwards. Moreover, he wasn't sure how he felt with the white against his skin, which tended to change shade based on his hunger... But as well as he was fed now-a-days, it was rare that his skin ever actually grew that pale anymore, especially now that his smoke basically didn't exist in his body anymore. Besides, was white an _ideal_ color for a _stealth_ agent? Somehow, unless he was in the snow, Gabriel seriously doubted so. “You know, you slept almost entirely through that night- against my side I might add. I _didn't_. In _full_ leather.”

“You complain a lot,” She rebuked quickly, and Gabriel snorted, turning his mask over in his hands, the chrome-hued patina mirroring the dull grey and red tones of the interior of the drop ship.

“Get yourself ready. I'm going to see how close we are,” He replied, finally moving to stand and striding up the few steps to the cockpit at the front of the ship. Five minutes out, the pilots advised, and Gabriel slipped his mask on at last. “Five minutes, Jay. Lets check the comms, make sure everything's running.” His claws clicked over a small button on the inside of the mask, which Sombra had clearly had a hand in working on. It now had a comm device built into it, along with night vision to help with the stealth missions. He heard it click on, and seconds later, he could hear Jay's voice in stereo, both in the mask, and standing in front of him as she slipped on her own mask.

“ _Testing..._ ” She smirked at him- all seemed to be working fine.

“Do you know what your mission is?” He tested her.

“Get in, see what they're doin' here, and get out. No funny business.”

“No _combat,_ Cardinal. You really _need_ to get that down.”

“I'll _try_ , boss.”

 

Finally, all the lights in the cabin dimmed and the ship itself shimmered as the stealth tech came online. The engines themselves grew so quiet that the entire thing felt like a giant paper bag within which the two stood.

Gabriel learned then, as he tried to fit Jaelen with a rope sling to help her descend into the forest, that her own outfit had been upgraded with a few new unique tricks. A small pack on her back that fit easily between her shoulder blades suddenly shuddered as she stood near the edge of the loading bay door, and out from either side, two fairly large, seemingly flexible hard-light _wings_ emerged.

“What the hell are those?” He asked abruptly, surprised by them, even reaching out to try and touch them, only to find that they had the same consistency as any other hard-light barrier.

“A gift from the DJ,” She shrugged. “Musical vigilante or some shit. Said he thought it could be useful. They don't fly. Just sorta... glide. Like a retractable glider, I guess. Anyway, they're way faster than a 'chute.”

After a moment of investigation, Gabe's brow lofted. “That's... Uh, interesting, I guess. Do you have practice with them?”

“The hell did you think I was doin' in Fiji while your ass was knocked out? _Tending the weeds?_ ” She scoffed, and Gabriel stifled the smirk beneath his mask. When he finally gave her the signal, she leapt from the plane, no longer afraid of heights, but in fact, welcoming of them, which was an almost heartwarming thing for him to see, not that he'd say so out loud. When the door closed again, Gabriel strode back to the table in the center of the cabin and clicked on a few buttons, at once tracking her location, vitals, and over-all conditions, everything from the height of the ship, how hot it was running, its state of repair or damage, the weather outside, the heat, the level of light, time of day, and small movements being tracked far below, anything from single persons to larger moving vehicles... All of them looked like insects from this almost three-dimensional display. The ground itself was varying shades of blue, the foliage, dark green, unknown moving objects were yellow, Jay herself was a brighter, flashing green, and buildings were grey- not that there were many out here in the so-called boonies. In fact, there was just one. It was a large warehouse, fairly well built by the look of things, and gated with chain link and barbed wire. There is a small catwalk along the back side that reminds Gabriel briefly of SEP, where he and Jack shared their first kiss. The beeping that had come from Jack's watch back then is now echoed by a sudden, flashing red dot, a moving target that emerges from a door at the front of the warehouse and heads towards a long row of vehicles.

“Be alert, there are hostiles awake,” Gabriel warns- after all, Talon was seldom ever actually asleep. Sunset wasn't exactly late, but most businesses out here would be dark by this point... Yet, there weren't civilians within two miles of this location, which was part of what made it suspect in the first place. Jay doesn't respond, but a small beep sounds inside his mask, a clear indication that she heard him as she presses an affirmative button on her temple, to avoid the need to speak. She's finally touched down not far from the warehouse, and he can see her begin to make her approach through the trees, silent as a cat in the dark.

Intel only, he reminds himself as he watches her, leaning forward so as to watch and listen as closely as he can. There is a small camera device on Cardinal's hud that allows him to see what she's seeing, and as he activates it, at first, all he sees is the darkness of the forest around her, and the sound of her feet dashing swiftly across fallen leaves, the rush of air against her dark hood, the waking groan of the night birds and bugs that swallows her up like a crushing wave.

Finally, she slows as the building comes into view. Her eyes scan the screen of chain link fence and barbed wire between her and the building before her eyes suddenly scan to the side. She finds the first tall, thick tree she can find and launches herself towards it. With her momentum, she plants first one foot, then another, and then another until she suddenly leaps off of it's trunk, back-flipping towards the fence, and in those moments, the hardlight wings, thin with a translucent red gleam, reveal themselves for just the briefest of moments to give her the lift that she needs to clear the barbed wire, and she lands in a roll so as to quiet her sounds, easily darting her way clear of the fence and it's perimeter. It's clear that she's done this move before countless times, but to bigger foe, and not merely to jump a great height, but to take _down_ those bigger foe. Gabe is impressed by the maneuver, all the same. She's at the back corner of the building now, pressed up against its side, far from where the vehicle that has since pulled away and driven up a dusty trail, leaving a cloud of soil in its wake. But, from here, she's directly below the catwalk above that is obviously meant for guards. Her eyes scan it, finding no one as of yet, but she has no doubt that there are bound to be cameras around, at least, if this place is carrying anything of any kind of worth. As to what the place actually held, no one really knew, but the suspicion was that this place may be holding even more Shimada weaponry like what they had found in the previous warehouse, yet there was no way to know for sure.

Skirting under the railing two stories above her, Jaelen makes her way along the outside of the building, looking for anything- a window, a crevice, even a sizeable vent that she might be able to fit herself into... Finding nothing as she stops back where she started.

“ _Boss,_ ” she cuts in, “ _There's nothin'. No windows. No doors. Not even a fuckin' out-house. How the hell do I get in?_ ”

Gabriel stretches his fingers and runs them over the console in front of him. The map easily moves to his manipulations, the holographic growing larger, now using information and scanning technology from Jaelen's mask to lay out more detail on the map. He's able to enlarge the building and turn it so that he can see it more easily.

“Well. There's the front door, or, there's the catwalk around the back. There would have to be a door there. But, best guess? As soon as the sun's gone, those guards are going to take their posts. That means the door will be open... But there will be eyes on you. This is strictly a stealth mission. I'm willing to bet there's eyes on the front door, too... You might need to be creative.”

“ _What the hell? Creative? How?! You're suppose to be telling me what to do? And I'm suppose to just..._ ”

_Creak._

The sound of cringing metal slices through the air, across the comms as a door of some kind opens. Gabriel is quickly able to see the source as two armed guards emerge, blinking red on his holographic.

“Two targets on the roof. There's a hatch. They're armed. Be careful. Stay low until...”

The two guards approached the edge of the building, not far from where the catwalk was, but at the top, and reached down, revealing a small but sturdy ladder that swung over the side. _What the hell? A roof entrance? That was unique. Why was this place so well protected? A ladder that was raised and lowered specifically for guard patrols?_

“I don't think they have just weapons in there, Jay. You need to be careful, and creative, like I said. There's a ladder... And a hatch. You'll need to use both to get in... You will have to incapacitate these guys.”

“ _These guys?... Oh. Those guys,_ ” She murmurs as she finally sees them slipping down the ladder onto the catwalk. Getting from the ground floor to the catwalk wasn't exactly going to be easy- it wasn't like there were any more tall trees _inside_ the fence. She would have to find a way to distract them down. “ _Is this safe? You said no combat._ ”

“Not _really_ combat if there's no struggle, right? I'm just saying, be quiet about it. Can you sneak around them?”

“ _Christ, I can't fly, Gabi. I need a distraction-_ ”

“There are cars at the front of the lot. I'm willing to bet one of them has an alarm. Trigger it, and someone will have to come out to turn it off. That will be your chance to get in.” That answer was simple, to the point, and took the hard calculating out of the problem for Cardinal... Yet she knew that eventually, she'd have to be able to improvise like that on her own. Obeying wordlessly, she moves when she knows the two guards aren't looking, and sneaks her way around the outside of the building once more, stopping at the corner near the front. Peaking, she spots a few vehicles. Two vans which look like they've been off-roading for far too long, one of which has _actual tires,_ a pick up truck that looks fairly new, and one, slightly smaller, more personal car. _That's the one.  
_ There's a single light in the front of the building, a brilliant fluorescent yellow that hazes out a good portion of color from everything around it, making Cardinal almost feel sick. It's too high to put out, and trying to darken it would cause a scene she can't allow. Even so, even in this relative darkness, that light would give away her dark red armor like a beacon.

But, the cars are all parked in a line, and Jay is a small agent. Making her decision, she darts from her cover around the corner and slides into the shadow beneath the closest vehicle, using its overhead as cover. When her movement seems not to have aroused suspicion, she moved again, and again, each time sliding beneath each one until she finally arrives at the comparatively small sedan.

The plan, she decided, was to get the alarm to go off... Somehow, and then, wait for _whoever_ to emerge from the building. _And then what? I can't very well just walk in the front door. Gabi said to do this without combat,_ she reminds herself. Ultimately, she realizes that she needs to get to the roof, somehow, without the two guys on the catwalk noticing, and without anyone inside raising any alarms. Perhaps if she made _enough_ of a distraction...

Jaelen rolls over onto her back, staring up at the underside of the car as she considers her options. Planning was never necessarily her strong suit, but she was effective at finding _practical_ solutions to problems like this. First thing first- see who she was working with. Gabriel said to be stealthy about this, but somehow she doubted even he was prepared for this level of security.

“ _I have a plan,_ ” she whispers to him, “ _You're not going to like it, but it'll work._ ”

“You can't kill anyone, Cardinal. You know that.”

“ _Ain't anyone goin' to die, don't get your tighty-whities in a bunch, old man._ ”

“My official title is-”

As for getting up over the side of the building... That was going to be tricky. What could she use that didn't involve the use of a tree? Undoubtedly, she could use her wings, but even those had limitations.

Peering out from beneath the car just barely, she's able to see the tall, obnoxious lamp post nearby... Tall, like many of her opponents had once been. Somewhere in Owellton,someone was _still_ getting blood punched out of them, she knew, and here she was, laying on the dirt under a car, sweating in armor in the middle of some jungle, feet away from at least a half dozen bloodthirsty terrorists. All for the sake of helping people. Of being a better person than she was before.

That, there- that hideous, tall, obnoxious yellow lamp post was her route to the roof.

What even _was_ Gabriel's official title? Did any of them have one, come to think of it, outside of the Commander himself?

The sound of creaking metal is the warning Gabriel didn't want. At first, he suspects the hatch on the roof, until he sees the reality. The sedan was suddenly moving, lifted abruptly upwards by Cardinal, who slowly begins to stand. Gabe's eyes widen.

“ _JAELEN!_ ” He suddenly barks, rising in his seat, as if somehow standing in the ship will make any kind of difference. “This is NOT my idea of stealthy!” His clawed hands slam down onto either side of the table.

“ _Just give me a fuckin' chance!_ ” She growls through her gritted teeth as she lifts the car, hands gripping tightly onto the under side as she suddenly twists, launching the car away from the building, towards the road. It tumbles trunk over hood towards the wall of forest on the other side of the gravel path. The noise is so horrendously loud that Gabriel cringes from the sound of it over the comm device. slamming abruptly into a tree on the other side.

 

The car alarm starts going off as the crushed vehicle drops slowly back onto its underbelly with a crunch.

 

At once, Jay can hear shouts, and she charges towards the lamp post, knowing she has seconds before _whoever's_ inside comes rushing out like a hoard of bees. Her hand latches onto the post, and then the other, launching herself upwards with as much strength in her arms as she can manage, climbing her way to the top of the pole in leaps and bounds. When she reaches the top of it, she crouches over the lamp. It's the darkest place in the area, and gives her a birds-eye view over the building as the two guardsmen scramble up their ladder, then across the roof to set their eyes on the car. With the sound of heavy boots, three more Talon soldiers rush from the compound at the sudden crash. At first, they stand bewildered at the door in a knot. Finally, one of the two on the roof shouts down at them, equally confused.

“What the hell happened!?”

“You can't tell us? Didn't you see it?!”

“Of course not! Christ! Is that the Overseer's car?”

“... Shit. Fuck.”

“ _Tom, we're going to be decapit-_ ”

“Hey! Now, what have I said about that, Steve? You just _have_ to stop thinking that way. We'll be fine! It isn't like we could have done this.”

“ _No but maybe if we were paying attention we could have-_ ”

“ _SHUT UP_ you two! We have to figure our what this noise is!” Apparently, the guards on the ground didn't have time for Positive-Tom's peptalk. Jaelen remained huddled on the light post, using its shadow to her advantage, waiting for the right moment to leap. Gabriel held his breath in the ship, on the edge of his seat.

 

Finally, the two on the roof make their way back to the hatch as the three already on the ground start to make their way towards the flipped car. When they pass beneath her, she makes her move, leaping soundlessly from the light pole and using her wings to catch her, gliding effortlessly to the roof and landing as if on cat's feet.

“ _Sir, if you could keep me informed on their location-_ ”

“One of the two guards from the roof is coming out the front door just now... The other one, probably telling authorities I would guess. Making a report- or... Alerting their _Overseer_ as it were. You need to make your move soon.”

“ _Copy._ ” Cardinal crept to the side of the roof, barely peeking over the side to see what the three, now four guards were doing. The sound of a slamming door and shouting suddenly caught her ears. Undoubtedly, it was the shouting of a seriously enraged Overseer emerging to see what had become of his beloved vehicle.

 _Her_ vehicle, it turned out.

“What the _hell_ are you morons even doing out here, if something... If some _one_ can just come along and do this without any of you knowing!? Wasn't anyone watching the cameras!? You fools. _FIND_ them. They are still out here somewhere... Stay together, they can't be that small... _Imbeciles._ If you _can't_ find them, there will be _real_ hell to pay. I will call for an extraction unit.”

“ _Extraction unit?_ ” Jaelen whispers curiously to Gabriel.

“Specialized troops... They're specifically designed to route out any intruders... They're meticulously well trained, and equipped. They'll make your gear useless if they get in range of you- anything electronic- even comm devices will be nullified. It's _bad_ news.”

“ _Christ! So what now!?_ ” She gasps. Gabriel struggles with the decision. He knows what he would do if he was in her shoes, but she didn't have his abilities, and it wasn't his life he'd be gambling with. But, if they came back empty-handed, it would look bad for a first mission for both of them, and on top of that, Talon was likely going to reinforce security at this compound now, making it even harder for Overwatch to find out what was going on here. It was definitely more than just a few weapons, obviously... So now? Now was their best time. A now-or-never situation that Gabriel never wanted to encounter.

“We might only have a few minutes before Extractors get here. You have to be fast, Jay. In and out, nothing else. You mess this up, and we could be in some deep shit. You understand me?”

“ _Sir, yes sir._ ”

Generally speaking, Talon only ever had Extractors nearby in valuable places... But if this was _that_ valuable, they would be on-sight, wouldn't they? That likely meant that there was something valuable nearby. He made a note of it in his mind for the report later, and watched as Jaelen suddenly headed inside the compound. Luckily, the guards within had moved out, and she was left clinging to the ladder that lead inside. Once she was sure she was safe, she let her eyes soak in everything that she saw.

Gabriel watched with her through the eyes of her mask.

 

They both stared in minor awe... and horror, as realization struck them.

 

This wasn't a weapons cache, no. Oh no, it was far worse than that.

 

This was a prison.

 

 

“ _...Gabi..._ ” Cardinal breathes wordlessly.

 

 

 

“... _There's kids here.”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, guys! Please let me know what you liked, and send this story to your friends to help it grow, especially if you knew they read/liked Haunted!  
> As always, your comments keep me going!


	4. Relief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings:  
> Mild Gore, Heavy Smut

From wall to wall, floor to ceiling, all Jaelen saw were cages. They didn't even have the common decency of a toilet as a proper prison would have. No, this? This was a kennel. A kennel, she thought in horror as she looked on, for _people._ And not just any people, but children. True enough, not everyone here was a child, but she saw at least six faces here far, far younger than her own. The rest? Grown men and women, so exhausted that many of them looked unconscious. Many of them looked dead.

“ _Gabi... There's kids. Kids-_ ”

“Hold it together, Cadet. We have work to do here-”

“ _Gabriel. They're kidnapping-_ ”

“Jaelen, calm down-”

“ _They're stealing... Children._ ”

 

Jaelen's sense of self control crumbled. Her ability to be stealthy diminished, petering out like the last heat from a dying ember... Drying up, as if the reservoir of patience she'd had before has simply leeched away into a chasm of raw rage. Now?

 

Jaelen struggled to hear Gabriel in her ears as her eyes feasted on the horror before her. She walked forward, eyes peering into the cages, surveying each one darkly as she passed. “ _Deadlock... Shimada... Rebel..._ ” She was listing off the inmates as she passed, making a mental note of the kind of people Talon was keeping, and who knew why? “ _What's your name?_ ” She asked as she came to a slow crouch in front of a girl. She was dirty, her hair was pale, wiry light orange, green eyes. The girl said nothing, only curling back into the corner of her cell, shaking a little more. Jaelen didn't even know if she spoke English. In her ear, Gabriel was screaming, seeing the rage in her eyes.

“JAELEN, listen to me! GET OUT. We have what we need! We know what's here- this is a BAD situation. GET out of there!”

“ _Fuck these people. Fuck Talon. They don't get to do this and live through the night_ ,” She growled, and Gabriel fumed, watching as Jaelen abandoned her duty and decided to enact her own justice. This floor, besides the prisoners, was abandoned. And these men? These... Deadlock and Shimada prisoners? Should they live? They were just as deadly as Talon was, most of the time. Her eyes narrowed and she stormed forward, finding her way down some stairs at the far end of the room. Downstairs proved to be almost the same, except that there was a control console to keep the prisoner's properly chained up. But, that was not her focus right now. Her eyes fastened upon the front door, which had been left wide open. Everyone was outside now, investigating. Jaelen drew her pistols, moving into the opening of the door.

“ _Over here, assholes._ ”

Gabriel was already moving, no longer able to get through to her, latching himself onto the drop-rope and wrenching the lever to open the bay door. “Keep her steady, we're going to need Evac! Don't go far!” His shout was directed up to the cabin, and he didn't wait for a reply before he was suddenly rappelling himself over the side. He descended so quickly that the chain he slid down smoked under its mechanics in his wake. He could already hear the sound of gunfire and shouting. The second he hit the ground, he was running. Inside, a tiny voice screamed at him that there was a reason he was assigned to the ship and not to full missions. That, this was _seriously_ dangerous, especially since Angela hadn't given him the full go-ahead yet. If he took one bad shot, there would be next to nothing to do to help him.

By the time he reached Jaelen she was taking the last shot, and he launched himself at her, catching her in the side and throwing her to the ground, but the sound of her pistol still went off. Seconds later, he heard the last body fall. Enraged, Gabriel suddenly pushed himself up, his form bloodied and scratched from his race towards her, and moreso from their skid along the dirt road to where they were now. Glaring at her, he shouted.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING, CADET?!”

“ _My job,_ ” Cardinal snaps shortly, and Gabriel seethes as he pushes himself up off of her, moving to stand, aching as he reaches up and pulls his hood over his head.

He barks into his comm device. “Air team, we need touchdown. We have multiple evacuees. Get me on radio with the commander in fifteen minutes. _I've got to figure out what the fuck I'm suppose to tell him._ ”

His eyes twist towards Jaelen who stands nearby, guns still in hand, still seething. Enraged, Gabriel storms up to her. “You and me? We're going to have one _hell_ of a problem if you decide to take matters into your own hands again. We've _already_ got a problem. Do you even know how this could have ended?”

The woman says nothing, standing still. Gabriel heads inside, calling over his shoulder. “I don't know if that Overseer actually made the call for Extractors, but I don't want to sit around and wait for them to show up. Better make yourself useful _real_ quick, Cadet.”

Reluctantly, she holsters her weapons and heads inside after him. The ship touches down on the road, and Gabriel manages to work the locks to the cages, first, releasing all the children. Luckily, most of them are too confused and weak to try running, and those that do are easily caught and reassured. Showing the Overwatch symbol to them seems to be enough to calm most of them down as they realize they're being rescued, even if they don't understand the words coming out of Gabe's mouth. He isn't especially good at being comforting, but he tries.

“Call in the UN for these other guys... That's where they'll be headed _anyway_.” Gabriel wasn't pleased, but at least they weren't dead. Jaelen nurses a scuff in one of her legs where a bullet grazed her, but otherwise, the two don't speak. Gabriel goes out of his way to sit alone, just so that he _can_ be moderately alone.

Still, Jaelen can overhear the conversation, at least most of it from Gabriel's end.

“We were... Compromised. Our Cadet was caught off-guard. It wasn't weapons, Sir. It was a holding facility of some kind for prisoners. There were children... Sir, yes, we freed them, Sir. They're on board with us. I don't know where you want us to take them... Copy, Sir, yes sir. I apologize. This was not- no. I know. This wasn't part of the plan. Sir, I tried-. Sir. Yes sir. I will see you when we arrive, then.”

Winston was furious. If anyone was suppose to be able to keep Jaelen in line, Gabriel was. She had completely blocked him out in favor of her own judgment- hadn't she always been this way? As the radio clicked off, Jaelen looked down, brows knitting. If she hadn't done that, those kids would still be there, and not huddled around in seats or on the floor of the ship as they were now. There were at least ten of them. Could she really say it was a bad decision? Gabriel didn't speak to her, his mind too heavy with the ramifications of all this.

Talon was going to know Overwatch was there- this was more of a strike than an intel mission. Moreover, there was a high chance they would make other holding facilities like this one even better protected. These kids didn't know why they were being held, and the UN would take forever to extract any information out of those other prisoners, as it seemed to take them forever to do anything anyway. Angela was going to have a fit that he did anything this risky at all... Winston was probably going to revoke his minor promotion, but it wasn't as though that mattered as much to him as did the prospect of Jaelen possibly getting _kicked out_ of Overwatch entirely.

This was... A really terrible outcome for their first solo mission together. The equivalent, in Gabriel's eyes, as an interview that had gone very badly for a job you only got one shot at. He had no idea if Winston was going to let her stay or not.

_Would I, if I was Strike Commander?_

The question lingers in his head, and part of him wants to say yes, because he had worked with Jaelen for months now, he knew her, and how she functioned, he had helped her train...

But if she couldn't follow orders... Then she was a liability.

 _No,_ he realizes, _I wouldn't._

 

He heads up to the cockpit to inform the pilots of their new coordinates. “Just outside London. We have to make a pitstop. The UN will take these kids from there... They can't be allowed to see the Base. I'm going to try to get some shut eye. Wake me when we get there.”

Then, he's back to his seat, pulling his hood over his face to avoid any of the children staring at him or getting too familiar with his face, and the one they've seen on TV for the last several months.

When he awakes, it's finally daytime, and the ship is descending. Straightening himself up, the man stands at the door, just inside it, as they're greeted by a UN official. Nothing is said, but signatures are crossed, including Gabe's, and the door shuts the moment the kids are gone. Jaelen sits across from Gabriel in the cabin, and she looks like she wants to say something. Gabriel just wants to go back to sleep, but she presses the issue.

“So are we gonna talk about this or what, Gabi?”

“ _Don't_ call me that,” He growled.

“Oh, is it going to be like _that_ now?” The woman grumbles. Her attitude makes Gabriel hiss.

“Knock off the tone _, Cadet._ This isn't high-school drama. I am your Superior Officer, do you even know what that means?”

“ _Of course I do_.”

“No, you _don't,_ ” he snapped back. “It _means_ that I am your _Superior_ Officer. As in, you _answer_ to _me._ You follow _my_ orders. Let's get _one_ thing straight, Cadet. This _isn't_ Deadlock. This isn't _Junkertown_. This is Overwatch. This is an official, legal _peacekeeping_ organization. We're not assassins, and we're sure as hell _not_ Blackwatch. I know that you knew about me prior to the fall. I know that you looked up to me during and after the time of Overwatch, but let me make this _very_ clear. I am _not_ that man _anymore_ , and even _then_ , I have _never_ allowed my soldiers to go off and make their own decisions on the battlefield. That is _not_ how this machine functions. Do you understand? We could both be _dead_ right now because of that little stunt you pulled-”

“I- _Sir_ , I'm sorry. It's just- I saw the kids and I-”

“NO! Jaelen, _Stop._ Stop. There are no excuses. I know what you saw. I saw it too. Don't you think I would have liked to have done something about it? Yes, but this was _not_ the right way. You disobeyed _several_ direct orders. You risked your own life, and mine, and theirs, and this ship's! You put everyone at risk because _you_ decided to play Hero. The _only_ thing that might save our asses is the fact that we _did_ pull it off.”

“ _I_ pulled it off,” She snapped suddenly. “You didn't do anything except tackle me over.”

Gabriel fumed internally. He knew she didn't mean that. She needed his insight for the mission, and without it, she might not have ever gotten in at all... But to hear her take credit for this as if it was some kind of success bristled him. He felt his teeth grate against one another, and his arms crossed as he sagged further into his seat.

“Lets see you explain that to the Commander,” He offered up coldly, putting aside anything else he might have said- about how terrified he had been of watching her die as he sat uselessly in the ship, observing. He cared about Jaelen- she had come so far in her training here, but even she still had a lot of things to learn about being a soldier. Had he failed her so much as to be unable to teach her even that? Memories of himself and Jesse surged into his mind, making him sigh faintly. Jesse had been so difficult to train, so difficult to discipline. He was a wild and free kid, just like Jaelen was. Gabe knew that sometimes the most important lessons were difficult to learn.

 

Gabriel could hear the Commanders _stern_ voice all the way down the hall. He wasn't yelling exactly, but the Gorilla had a way of putting bass into his voice that put a lot of decent percussion instruments to shame. It was enough to intimidate just about anyone, and since almost everything he said was backed up with scientific proof and evidence, it was hard to argue with him. When Jaelen finally emerged, Gabriel was waiting for her. Pulling her red hoodie up over her head, she hunched her shoulders and started to stalk passed him, murmuring something like, “ _Okay, alright. I get it. I'm sorry._ ” The two managed to smooth things over after that.

“You had some good moves. It was impressive,” He said over lunch. “You just need to stick to the mission. Things are set up that way for a reason. As soon as I saw that they had a hatch on the roof, I knew it wasn't what we thought it was going to be. That should have been enough for us to back out and call in drone surveillance. It could have gotten in and out without anyone even noticing, or making a scene, or making Talon aware of our meddling.”

“Did you keep your title?”

“ _What_ title, Jaelen? Overwatch is only just reforming- Winston hasn't given anyone any... Formal titles. No serious ranks... I was Head of Operations, but that's relatively vague, and a lot of people do that-”

“Only you, Ana and Jack-”

“ _It's still a fair amount of people._ ”

“Whatever, did you lose the permission to run missions or not?”

“... Sort of.”

“ _Crap, I'm sorry._ ”

“Don't worry about it, Jay, it wasn't anything you did. It's that I didn't have the foresight to withdraw when we should have, and that I violated direct protocol to go down and get you. I was injured, could have died or something...”

“Yeah but... Me too, right?”

“I guess neither of us are expected to be heroes right now. Jack was always better at that than me anyway. This was a test run and we failed. We weren't stealthy, we made a scene, and we didn't listen to each other. I didn't use strategy the way I should have.”

“So, what now?”

“He wants me to sit in on a few missions with Ana... See how she runs things. You'll be doing a few missions along side Tracer and Sombra... So that you can get used to following orders, and stealth missions a little better before he sends us out again.”

“Lucky I didn't get canned, I reckon-”

“ _You what?_ ”

“Er... I mean. Look. Sorry. Just spent a lot of time talkin' to that damn cowboy while you were down sick.”

“Sooner or later I'm not even going to know what language you're speaking, Jaelen.”  
  
~

 

A breeze sweeps in through one of the high, vaulted windows, left open for the time being if only because it's a comforting feeling against her pale skin. Everything is done, yet somehow, the Widowmaker feels incomplete. Something feels wrong in a way that she knew it shouldn't. She sits in one of the high backed dining chairs in her especially empty dining room- there are cases and cases of wine and various other accouterments, but they do not satisfy the hunger she has.

 

 _The target escaped. Again. Of course he did. I should have simply shot him in his cell, while he was captured and pathetic. It would have been so easy, wouldn't it? The doctor said that wind could have carried my shot out of line, or that perhaps I was... Compromised. I do not trust her. I don't think anyone does._  
  
Widowmaker turns the page in her small book, a private journal that remains a closely guarded secret to everyone except herself. How could they possibly expect her to totally function if she did not know her marks by how she had met them? Moira was only ever a means to an end in making the pain go away... And the pain _did_ go away in a way that Talon's _juice_ did not. Widow had always known about the drug. She had suspected it after her first few weeks in Talon. After a few months, all but confirmed it through self experimentation. It kept her complacent. It kept her... Obedient. But then, she wanted those things. Widowmaker wanted those things because she belonged no where else. She knew what the truth was, of course- that she had killed her husband. That Talon never bothered her when she went to visit his grave seemed proof enough to her that they knew, she knew. Moira did not seem to care, and neither did Akande, so long as the jobs got done, and he ultimately got what he wanted, one way or another.

The medicine did remove the memories... And she wanted that. Reaper had asked her once if she'd ever want to know what really happened, and she had said no. That was still true. Why would she want to remember exactly how it had happened? Gerard betrayed her for some... Some _cause_ she didn't quite understand. He _left_ her, bit by bit. Until she hated who he had become... Or... Perhaps that she had no longer become the dancer he'd had his eyes on. Gerard had moved on to bigger, more important things beyond settling down and having a simple life. Having a family.

 

Simple pleasures that Amélie felt she had been denied.  
  
Now, she danced for no one but herself... And she was determined to bring down those who took the man from her.  
And as of recently... Her closest, perhaps only friend.

 

She began to pen anew on a fresh, empty page.

 

_What is this allure that those heroes have to them that would pull us apart one by one? Overwatch... A peace keeping initiative. What a joke. Can they not see the hurt they bring upon the world? Akande would say they do nothing but slow the progress of humanity... But for me? I debate over their true purpose. Does it mean anything to them? These people that throw their lives away for a fight that cannot be won? War has always existed and will always exist. Peace, itself, has never actually happened. But all the while they destroy the lives of others. They hinder the natural order of life... And death. And, who am I, but a woman trapped in the hell of this limbo? There are the whisperings of memories, telling me who I used to be, for all the good they will do. I am not that woman anymore, and never will be. And he? Reaper, the fool. He chased those foolish dreams all the way down the crooked rabbit hole as far as they would go. He is more blind now than he has ever been. Hope has clouded his vision. Does he think that... That what? Talon will be defeated and that suddenly the world will be content? If not Talon, then another will arise. The war he fights will never end. He has given his life, or whatever was left of it, back to the people who took it from him in the first place. Talon was his chance to decide his own future, finally. A chance for him to have a say in what becomes of the world..._

_Seeing him on the battlefield was like seeing a ghost. In his black eyes, I saw hope in a way there never was before... And a sort of sadness. Why? Wasn't this everything that he wanted? He chose his side- wasn't that what he always used to say about the Shrike? That she had chosen her side and that her life was forfeit? Has he willingly forfeited his own? What could he possibly see over there that would make him think this is better than what it was?_

 

_When I saw him fall... I felt nothing._

_No. Not nothing._

_Relief._

_Why? Was it easier for me to think he was dead- truly, finally dead? Was it because I could finally have the last images of him removed from my mind? Why should I care about someone who betrayed me, who I only know by the countless pages I have filled in this book about my years since I arrived at Talon? I still have the page where in we first received him... He showed up at Talon, an emotional, rage-filled animal. He barely even spoke words... Moira seemed somehow to understand him, and to know what he needed, and wanted, when he said to make the pain go away._

_When I went to her the first time, I did not know exactly what it would mean. This book has brought me back to understanding several times now... Without the extra... Baggage that comes with the mental space. It's comforting to have such a tool._

_But where do I go from here? Talon has not asked for me back. At least, Maximilien hasn't. He has been my closest contact to Talon now for weeks since the explosion happened. He is the only one I have trusted into these walls. He has told me that Talon doesn't think I'm ready to come home yet. I wonder how true that is... Akande is usually so... Eager for my return for one reason or another... It is difficult to fathom that somehow he might suddenly actually care about my well being, or sanity._

_As for the target? He survived the blast. If he didn't, the media would have been all over his death, especially since he is such a public “Hero” now. Talon hasn't gotten back to me on whether or not we are still instructed to kill him. I suggested that we do, because if he is weak, it would be now...  
The latest scandal... He's taken his little protege out on a mission, and as expected, she botched it... But there was no ghost. No abilities. I think that perhaps the fall crippled him._

 

_That means now is the time to strike._

 

_If we wait- If I wait, I'll lose my chance to end this. I have always been a master of my own fate. It was why I joined this company to begin with. To punish Overwatch for what they had done. They have made me less human, and emotion is a human's weakness... I am better off without them._

_And I can kill without a command.  
Talon is wasting its time. My time. I do not want to wait anymore._

_Reaper betrayed me, betrayed this family._

_He deserves to die._

_  
~_

 

“How long they shippin' you out for, Cowboy?” Jaelen asks, arms crossed as she leans back against one of the sofas in the cafe. Gabriel is nearby, sipping on whatever Jack ordered him, half-downing a thick read-made sandwich of ham, turkey and cheese. The gunslinger has his feet up on the small round table between the four of them, one arm draped across his torso propping up his elbow, a glass of chocolate milk in that hand near to his lips because no one could buy alcohol in here, but he didn't know how to hold a drink otherwise.

“A few months I'd guess. I ain't too sure. I suppose it depends how the missions go.”

“They setting you up in a base out there?” Jack asks, stuffing part of a chicken sandwich into his mouth.

“Yeah. Near Osaka. New installation, I guess. They started work on it after yall found that weapons depot. Suppose to find out what Shimada Clan's doin' with all them explosives.” He snorts slightly. “Killin' people, but why?”

“They're sending you, with your history?” Gabe asks, and the man cocks his head.

“The hell you mean, _my history?_ It ain't like I'm gonna botch the job.”

“I just meant-” Gabe tries to protest, but Jay interjects.

“Look fellas, it ain't no secret, alright?” She looks over at Gabe. “They don't think Hanzo's involved anymore- with the Clan, I mean. Jesse has a good foundation of the area. He can be a help there... His history shouldn't be a problem.”

Gabe is slightly surprised by her knowledge on the topic, but ultimately shrugs dismissively.

“Fair enough. When do you leave?”

“Tonight, around twenty-two hundred.”

Tonight? Gabe wasn't ready for that. Jesse had been one of his closest friends in Overwatch since he arrived, and the gunslinger had hardly been out of sight since he arrived. Now? McCree was heading off somewhere else for what he considered to be a _long_ time. Jack seemed to notice the look that came into Gabe's eyes- he'd seen it before. Offering a small smile, he nudges Gabe with an elbow.

“Oh come on, don't go getting all sappy. At least not right here in the cafe.” He laughs lightly, and Gabe snorts.

“ _Shut up, Jack..._ ” He pauses and shrugs. “It's just a long ways is all. I'm sure you'll be fine.” _Please don't go get yourself killed, Jesse._ The silent plea was in Gabe's tone, and the cowboy smirks.

“I managed well enough for a few years after everything on my own. Reckon I'll do it again. Besides, I won't be totally alone. They're sending ninja-boy to babysit me.”

“What?” Jack and Gabe both chorus. Jaelen uncomfortably slurps on her fading smoothie as she sags into her seat.

“They're sending _Genji_ with you? Don't you two kind of... Hate each other?” Jack seems surprised, vaguely disapproving.

“Hell-” Jesse starts, sighing. “No, he don't- I mean... At least I don't think he hates me-”

“So you just hate him, then. Fantastic,” Gabriel utters, brows reaching a deadpan level on his forehead.

“What? No! I didn't say that! Look, boys. You guys need to relax. This is going to all be fine. Genji and I just got real different ideas of how to do things... The Commander thinks it'll be a good way for he and I to reconcile our differences. An maybe it will, you know? Things'll be fine, and he knows his way around the Clan real well. Now please-” He waggles his glass of chocolate with a small pleading look. “Tell me one of you boys is going to give me a proper send off with somethin' that'll actually tide me over until I can get my hands on some genuine Japanese hooch? If I gotta get on a plane with nothin' but this in my gut I may very well not make it there.”

 

That night, the four of them, and one additional Sombra, spend dinner together in Jack's quarters, drinking and laughing, playing a few card games before they let Jesse take his leave. It's a bittersweet hug when it comes, and Gabe gives Jesse a small warning that if he doesn't come back, Reaper might hunt him down himself. Jesse laughs a little nervously, then steps on board beside an already content Genji.

 

Gabe just hopes they don't kill each other before they land.

 

Two days later, Gabriel's summoned to Angela's lab, and before he can even get comfortable, the doctor's lips are moving a mile a minute.

“So, as I said before, your nanites are capable of breeding. It's amazing, really. Other nanites can't do that, Gabriel. These are stronger than anything I or Ana have ever used. Your nanites have a consciousness. They seem to be harmless to others while they are fully healed, which means that they are controllable- especially by you. While I can't get them to do anything, you can. They are perfectly in tune with your DNA... I believe this is something that must have happened to you during SEP... After the research I did, I did not find any evidence of Moira putting these into you. She seemed eager to try and replicate them however, and she was working hard to do so while she had you. Additionally? Your nanites have the ability to mimic others that they are close to, making them almost impossible to track... Think of it like camouflage on a cellular level. Despite not knowing exactly how they work, I think it is safe for me to reintroduce them to your system.”

There is a small moment of pause before Gabriel realizes what that means.

“You're going to put my-”

“Yes!” She says with a smile. “That's what you've been wanting, isn't it? Don't act like I haven't noticed, Gabriel... Perhaps there is a small part of you that enjoyed being... Back to 'normal'... So to speak... But it didn't feel right to you, did it? You've been...”

“Reaper.”

“... Right. Uh, for so long, that it felt better to you than being... mundane... did. Am I wrong?”

Gabriel didn't know what to say. He felt every ounce of emotion knot up in his gut, his fingers twitching at his sides as he struggled to come to terms with what Angela had said... Raw truth. He _had_ been Reaper for a long, long time now. Gabriel had been the wraith longer than he had ever been strictly human... And being without the nanites felt _bizarre_. Being simple made him feel like he was missing something. He didn't feed the same, or move the same... Hell, even Jack missed him as he _was._.. Come to think of it, Jack had never even known him without the nanites. Over and over, Gabriel was more _capable_ with his abilities than without them... And he could heal fully. And also... _Not die._

“So... What does this mean exactly?” Gabriel asks.

“Exactly what you think it means,” the woman says, turning away from the table between them to open a cooler she had brought in prior to their meeting. From within, she produced two large jugs, both filled with a completely black, unmistakable substance. “When I introduce the nanites back into your system, they will likely have the same effect on your system as they did originally. You might feel sick at first as your body adapts to them-”

Images of him and Jack running like mad animals down SEP halls flood Gabriel's mind. It wasn't going to be like that, was it? He hoped not. “My arms aren't going to melt off, are they?”

“W-What? Oh, gods no, Gabriel. No. This isn't quite like that. This is a reintroduction, not an experiment. Don't worry, okay? Besides that, the only side effects you might have are some nanite discharges.”

“...Discharges, Doc?”

“Ah... Well you see, when I inject these back into you, their first instinct will be to evolve again, and in all liklihood, multiply. Additionally, whatever minute amount of nanites were left in your body will merge with these, likely causing excess... So you should expect a little bit more smoke than you're used to, at least for a week or so. So, if you would, take off your shirt and lay down in this chair, alright?” She motioned a chair off to the side- one of those raised seats that dentists usually had their patients in. It was already set in a reclining position, so all she had to do was move it out from the wall on the arm it was attached to, and into an overhead light whose heat Gabriel could feel immediately. Obeying the order, the man stripped away his top and set it aside. Angela was quick at work affixing tubing to syringes and pumps. “This may take a little bit of time, alright? It isn't going to be too fast, so you may was to get comfortable. I can get you a book to read, if you like?”

“Ah... N-no, Angela. It's alright.” He moved steadily into the seat and reclined, chestnut eyes squinting in the sudden brightness of the light until Angela abruptly moved it so that it wasn't in his face. There were two large bags on either side of the seat, up above like IV bags that she filled with a vacuum from the two tubs she had brought with her to prevent any of the substance from escaping. These were hooked up to tubes. He felt a swab of alcohol followed by the pinch of a needle, then tape, before the exact same scenario followed with the opposite arm. Then, in a matter of seconds, he watched the nanites begin to drip into the tubes, stretching further downward towards his arms.

“Just relax Gabriel. It'll be alright,” She soothed, seeing a little bit of concern come into the man's eyes, her hand rested slightly on his shoulder, and something about the touch made him ease a bit. Angela likely had this reaction on everyone she helped.

 

It was cold.

A familiar, almost painful cold that struck his veins like ice, first one, and then the other, that made his head fall back and his eyes race towards the ceiling. His fingers curled, and in his shoes, his toes curled with them. He didn't struggle, though, and the Doctor watched carefully, making an observation as much as she was making sure that Gabe wasn't having any bad reactions. To Gabriel, he felt it affect him like a live wire, moving into his form from those points, seeming to paralyze him as it took hold. Then, ever so slowly, it moved further, stretching beneath his caramel-toned skin and turning his veins black.

“ _A-Angela?_ ” He asked, and when he did, his voice was... Not his own.

It was Reaper's. The voice of a familiar, old ghost of rage, home again.

“It's okay, Gabriel. This is normal,” She reassured him, and he eased once more, feeling the cold shift through his form until it reached his head. Gabe felt the blood in his veins go still for the briefest of moments. Almost at once, the heat of his body began to abandon him, and the color of his skin began to ebb away, bit by bit, as the fluid dripped from the bags further into his frame, consuming his heart and making it slow. He actually felt the beats grow slower, but stronger... More... Deliberate. His eyes felt as though they were freezing, so he closed them. Angela watched as darkness began to seep out from beneath the eyelids, and when they opened again, there were familiar red flecks in his irises. These gleaming specs began to glow, and as they did, a characteristic red halo began to form around his pupils, which had constricted considerably. There was a pain in the tip of his fingers and toes, and in his mouth, he realized, where familiar old fangs were growing back in. The skin itself began to even out, growing more ashen and beginning to darken. This was a concentrated dose of his nanites, and with it came a sort of adrenaline he had felt before in the sparring pit with Jesse, and again, when he had consumed those Talon men. It felt like an overdose... And it felt _amazing._

“ _You should leave, Angela._ ”

“W-What? Gabriel? Why? Are you alright? Does something feel wrong?”

Oh, it did. Everything about this felt horrendously wrong in one way or another. He knew that in some way, she had taken the monster out of him, and now, she was letting it back in... At least, physically. Mentally? Gabriel would argue that the monster never left. But Gabriel's body had never felt as good as it did right now. The strength seemed to work its way into every muscle, binding to every strand. Black claws had returned to their places at the ends of his hands, sharpened and powerful Talons.

“ _I'm hungry, Doctor..._ ” His eyes shifted towards her, black and red eyes locking onto hers. “ _Let's not take the risk. Stand outside... I'll... Call you, if I need you._ ”

“Oh.. Ah, Alright. Alright, I'll-” She was collecting her notebook as quickly as she could, pulling aside one of the window curtains so that she could observe from without.

“ _Go,_ ” Reaper insisted, and soon, she had shut- and locked- the door behind her. In the peripherals of his vision, Reaper could see her shape take place outside of the chamber, looking in through one of the tall glass window-walls that made up the back lab.

He thought he'd never remember what it felt like to be this cold again, and yet, here he was, hair pin-pricking up against the room which suddenly felt unbearably cold. He began to shiver, and his eyes closed again. Silently, the man practiced the breathing techniques Genji had shown him on the mountain top before, and it seemed to help, if only a little. With each drip, a new memory of the things he had done as Reaper seemed to come back to him, including the one, he realized, where he saved half a city, and Jack Morrison's life. Not everything he had done as Reaper was bad. Reaper was who he was- it was an integral part of who he had come to be, and how he had learned about himself. As the transformation continued, he let his tongue taste over the familiar teeth in his mouth, both upper and lower fangs, thicker like those of a predator, not think like those of some kind of vampire. No, these were meant for anything besides a delicate feeding. These, he realized, made it very clear that if he needed to _actually, physically_ eat someone to stay alive, he very well could have. Luckily, they had never been used for that purpose, and likely never would be- the nanites had done a pretty decent job of making feeding easier, and relatively bloodless in most situations. Slowly, he opened his eyes and let it seep back down towards his hands, spying the thicker black claws that grew in where his fingernails should be, slightly sharper, definitely tougher. And from his skin, now a pitch-black tone, a familiar smoke had begun to rise off of his flesh. Though he struggled not to, he ultimately failed to hide the smile that slipped onto his features. It felt _good_ to be home, he thought. Home, like he hadn't been this whole time. Part of him wanted to feed, and yet, he knew it was only because the rest of what was in those bags simply hadn't made it yet... Red gleaming eyes rushed towards the source. The wraith needed, craved more. All of it, in fact. Hands flexed where they rested, and slowly he moved, one hand gripping the side of the chair to push him further up, and the other clawed overhead to grab onto the headrest of the seat, and finally, he reached upwards again with-

 

With a third arm.

One of the four, total, that he usually possessed. It had been so long without them that Gabriel had almost completely forgotten what it was like to be without them. Yet now, after only minutes, he was using it as effortlessly, as instinctively as if they had never left. The arm itself, one of his two shadowed arms, had not completely formed, so it was only a solid, dark hand that floated upwards, reaching away from him and latching onto the first bag.

There was the sound of a thunk- a vague bang that he realized was Angela knocking on the outside of the glass, capturing his attention. Still holding the bag of nanites aloft, his glowing eyes leveled on her with the understanding of a maddened beast. Her head shook, blue eyes pleading. It wasn't wise. This wasn't a good idea. She was urging him not to, but why? What could be better, what could he want more than what was in this bag right now? Gabriel didn't understand, but Reaper knew what he needed.

_Hunger._

 

_I need... More._

 

His claws began to pluck into the bag itself as he brought it down, looking away from Angela's insistent stare- but she dared not come in, dared not intrude, knowing that if she interrupted him now, it could potentially be deadly. The nanites were unpredictable, and they only served Gabriel. If they saw her as a threat... It would be especially bad for _everyone_ involved. Now? She was forced to watch, doing her best to keep other lab technicians from getting curious or poking about while Gabriel indulged his hunger. His maw opened slowly, then wider... Wider than it ever should have for a mere human, so much so that he felt the muscle rip. What would have been agonizing before was now little more than a pinprick of pain as his jaw widened like something out of a horror. His hand tightened on the bag until it ruptured. At once, the dark substance bathed over his mouth, jawline and down his throat, as much of it as he could take. Anything that touched him seemed to seep right in, immediately absorbed. Even that which spilled passed him onto the chair and onto the floor steamed back up to him until there wasn't any evidence of the mess left He drained the bag until it was nothing but a torn, ripped plastic pouch that, for that any forensics could ever tell, had never even been used. Angela covered her mouth, uncertain what so many nanites at once would do... And for good reason.

Gabriel devolved, it would seem, into a frenzied beast. As quickly as he had finished the first batch, he down the second, ravenously feeling from it until there was nothing left. His heart raced, his body ached, and he about destroyed the lab seat he was laying in, in his haste to get out of it, sending it careening off of its extendable arm into the far side of the room, denting the high-grade steel and cracking the observation glass. The fact that it didn't break seemed to enrage him, which sent the man into a small, uncontrolled tirade as he struggled to regain control of himself.

By the time he had, the room was destroyed, and he was sitting in a corner, holding his hands, panting- freezing. When the door finally opened, Angela entered- she was _hardly_ impressed.

“S-Sh-Shit. I'm.. F-Fuck. I'm so sorry, A-Angela,” He stammered, looking over to her, his frame completely black with naught but those red rings around his pupils.

“Well! I should hope so. Are you _quite_ proud of yourself, _Mister Reaper?_ ” She asked, not impressed _in the slightest._ In fact, he was pretty sure this was the angriest he had ever seen her. “I am _so_ glad you took my advise in taking it slow, aren't you? Quite a nice remodeling job-” A foot was nudging a pile of shattered glass in the middle of the room drenched in chemicals from the cabinets he had destroyed... Gabriel looked pathetically, hilariously remorseful.

“Angela I'm sorry,” he said with more conviction. “I just... I was so hungry, and it was so close- I could smell it, I could _feel_ it. I needed it... I couldn't...”

“Control it? Yes, I know. Why do you think I wanted to stay in the room with you?”

“ _That_ wouldn't have been safe either,” he pointed out, and she sighed.

“Look, I'll help clean it up-”

“NO, no you won't,” she barked suddenly. “You're going to get your ass out of my lab, clean yourself up, take two sedatives and go to bed. Do we understand each other?” Gabe was pretty sure he had never heard her curse before. He was half was back to his room when he realized it was probably, at least partially complicated by the fact that she'd had to say goodbye to Genji recently, too- and now he'd just completely destroyed one of her five observation labs... Those were probably _really_ expensive. So, he took the two sedatives without question and made it back to his own room, his own bed, where he abruptly collapsed.

 

He awoke to someone picking glass out of his back, which made him wince and roll over, a plume of black smoke rolling with him.

“Hey,” Jack growled, “I wasn't done there.”

“Jack!” Gabe suddenly gasped, eyes popping and landing on the Soldier's blue stare.

“Looks like you had an eventful evening...”

“Ziegler is _really_ mad at me,” Gabe utters but his words are cut short by a sudden, forceful kiss that is pressed onto his lips. Sagging into the bedding, he kisses Jack back, his arms coming slowly around the man... All four of them. A small groan of desire seeps out of Jack into the kiss, and he tugs himself further into Gabe's side, which makes the shade wince, realizing that, as Jack said, there _was_ still glass embedded into his skin. But, Jack is so incredibly warm that Gabriel doesn't dare to pull away... He missed that heat, and longed for more of it.

“Shall we get that cleaned up?” Jack asked, “I did the liberty of bringing your shirt back- Angela said you left in such a hurry that you forgot it. She told me what happened. I brought you some food, if you wanted it...”

“ _Jackie,_ ” Gabriel purred, “You're so... So... Warm.” His face abruptly buried itself into Jack's neck, and the Soldier smirked faintly.

“So... Shower first, then.”

 

Ten minutes later, Gabriel was swallowing up more steam than he could handle, moaning a heavy pant into the shower wall, Jack behind him, making it happen. The last few shards of glass had washed away easily enough, and now, it was hard to tell they'd been there at all. If anything hurt, Gabe couldn't feel it. The feel of Jack's fingers prying into him was enough to have his toes curling against the shower floor, legs slightly spread, forehead pressed to the tile.

“ _J-Jackie,_ ” Gabe panted, and the Soldier made a small, thoughtful hum of acknowledgment. “ _I'm not hurt anymore,_ ” Gabe persisted.

“Don't worry, Sweetheart,” Jack taunted faintly, “I wasn't planning on going easy on you.”

The shade's eyes opened just slightly and he smirked. When he spoke, the rasp in his voice had grown slightly more needy... More demanding.

More dominant.

“ _No, Jack. I don't think you understand._ ” And with that, Reaper was moving. It had been far, far too long since he had had Jack the way he wanted to. He had been injured for so long now, at least, long enough that now, the overdose of nanites made him feel unstoppable. Unstoppable, in a way that he had not been in over a month. Maybe two. As eagerly as he had accepted Jack's adoring ministrations, he was turning the tables on the Soldier and giving some of his own... But it was hard to consider anything Reaper did as _adoring_. Jack found his back shoved against the shower wall Gabe had just been leaning against as the man simply wraithed out from within his grasp and instead reformed behind him, spinning him and pushing him into a heated, aggressive kiss. With a gasp of surprise, the kiss deepened at once, and Gabriel decided the shower was done, sliding open the glass door and coaxing Jack out into the bathroom. He backed up until his knees found the seat of the (luckily closed) toilet, where he was forced to sit or else, fall. As he did, he found Gabriel's hips right there in line of sight, and the claws on the back of his head and cheek let the man know exactly what the wraith wanted.

Jack fell into the submissive role with ease, leaning forward and guiding the man's eager length into his mouth, slowly at first. His tongue provided the warm up that Gabriel needed, and the first few strokes of his lips earned him the moan he wanted from the ghost. Those claws goaded him for a little more as they plucked against his scalp, so Jack took him a little deeper, and a little deeper still until the tip of his cock rubbed just slightly against the back of the Soldier's throat, causing a feverish groan out of them both. Slowly, the Soldier began to bob his head, allowing inch after into to roll along his tongue before drawing almost all the way out just to repeat the gesture. He had full intentions of finishing Gabe this way... But, Reaper had _other_ ideas.

His ideas involved the bed, which he was suddenly tugging Jack towards by the back of the man's neck. Urging Jack up off of his sitting position, he pulled at him, his legs naught but smoke as he eased the man towards the bed, and Jack gave away, letting Gabriel guide him to where, and how he wanted him. Knees found themselves pressed into the mattress, palms pressed into his spine, holding him down. Jack struggled against the hold just a little bit, just to test Gabriel's hold, and he was quickly reprimanded with a sharp growl and a shove that sent a thrill through his frame. Teeth found Jack's upper left shoulder, making him let out a small growl of pain that soon twisted itself into one of pleasure. With claws on his back, two _other_ hands found themselves on his chest, combing over his muscle, teasing a nipple here or there, leaving scratches that only _Reaper_ could leave. He felt the man behind him start leaving a hickey that he was sure to see in a mirror later- in this moment, Jack felt like _Gabriel_ was actually back, for the first time in forever. Gabe had always been a rough lover- always, and the Soldier had grown addicted to that. Stammering a curse, he felt one of the hands on his chest slip away, and he heard the drag of the nightstand drawer as Gabriel ravenously tugged out the lubricant.

“G-Gabe, I'm not... You know I haven't-” He tried to warn the man about how unpracticed he was in _receiving._

“ _You'll heal, boyscout,_ ” Reaper laughed darkly, making Jack nervous, but as soon as Gabe saw that look come into the man's eyes, he made a small, regretful croon. “ _Oh, come on Jackie... You always liked me this way. I'll be gentle... At first._ ”

 

And he _was_ gentle at first. The first intrusion caused an abrupt sort of yelp out of the Soldier at first, who promptly remembered that old advice- to muffle his sounds with the pillow. It worked until the small winces of pain became moans of pleasure. Then? The pillow was beyond useless. Gabriel went out of his way to grind into the man at whatever angle he knew would make Jack moan loudest- it was probably a good thing that Jesse wasn't around to overhear anything from next door, or else the two soldiers never would have heard the end of his teasing. That was positively the last thing on either of their minds as they gave in to each other, fully and thoroughly, until Gabe was forced to slow down his pace or else risk breaking the bed against the wall.

Jack didn't know how many times he came, but the bed was useless after they were done regardless- Gabriel had a long day of laundry ahead of him tomorrow, and Jack would _conveniently_ be elsewhere when that happened. When finally Gabriel came, himself, he dropped in a heap over the Soldier, kissing him, combing his hands over him, tugging the heated flesh against his own in a way that most would describe as possessive, rolling them both onto the unsoiled half of the bed.

 

“ _I love you, Jack,_ ” were the last words he heard Reaper speak before they fell asleep.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading, guys! As always, let me know what you think and share this story with your friends! Your feedback keeps me motivated to write, and I enjoy bringing this story to you.


	5. Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to. I had to do it.
> 
> Don't you dare judge me.

“Reaper is the name of the _Angel of Death,_ Reyes. We _both_ knew, all of us _knew_ that the UN would never go along with it once things got sorted.” The Commander was trying to be equal parts understanding and forceful. He needed Gabriel to abandon his moniker to keep the UN from jumping down their throats.

“I _know_ what it means, Commander. That is exactly why I _chose_ it,” the wraith insists.

“ _E d g y_ ,” Sombra remarks nearby, her eyes rolling somewhat.

“What, _Olivia,_ what if they asked you to change your name?”

“ _That_ would be a security violation, wouldn't it? No one knows my name, Gabe. But _everyone_ already knows your name. You're not putting anyone else at risk by changing your nickname.”

“The world knows me as Reaper. Talon will be intimidated of _Reaper._ ”

“You are an operative of Overwatch now, _not_ Talon.”

“You don't understand. I was _Reaper_ before I started with Talon- Reaper has always been _my_ idea.”

“You didn't have a terrible lot of good ideas, Gabriel,” A sharp voice cuts in from the holo-screen at the opposite end of the debriefing room. It's the newest UN ambassador that has been put in charge of negotiating with Overwatch since the UN investigations began. Her name is Helena. “During that time, you were physically unstable by whatever had been and was _still_ being pushed into your system, you were mentally compromised with nightmares and manipulation that was slowly twisting you against everyone that you were suppose to be helping, and, according to all records, including yours, you were not even _aware_ when Reaper was first created. That persona emerged in your dreamstate, isn't that true? Your subconscious? Isn't it true that you were Reaper long before you ever realized you were?”

“...Yes, but-”

“Then _Reaper_ was not _your_ idea, exactly. It was a response to a number of painful stimuli doing numbers on your system at the time.”

“But I-”

“Reyes.” The holo-screen changed. It was no longer an image of Helen, the middle-aged woman with greying blond hair done up in a bun behind her head, her dark blue business suit and reader's glasses. Instead, it was a badly taken video from a hand held phone... During the last attack, where in Gabriel had almost died. “This was taken by a civilian, Reyes. One of the thousands that were rescued that day.” He watched as the shaky camera, amidst the screaming, focused in on the overhead ship as it suddenly exploded... Then, his body as he began to fall. But there was a roar- a roar of victory as the ship soaked up most of the blow and disintegrated. “You have become a symbol of hope for people all around the world, just as Overwatch is. Talon, like the name Reaper, inspires fear. It inspires pain.”

Gabriel, exhausted, sighs and sags in his seat. Jack, nearby, tries to reassure him with a small look. It doesn't help.

“What are you proposing instead, Helena?” Jack asks, to keep the conversation moving.

“Well... There are a few options that our team has come up with for new code names. We know that your mask is meant to resemble that of a bird so we have tried to work around that...” She pauses as she reappears on the screen. “The first, I have no doubt that you will turn down- the Dove-”

A symbol of peace, and white, like the new outfit they wanted him to wear. Gabriel eye-rolled. “Hard pass.”

“Alright. Then, the Crane- it also symbolizes peace, but also hope, Gabriel. In some cultures it represents prosperity, which could be a good sign to inspire those who have lost their homes as casualties of this war-”

“ _Next_.”

“... Our last choice, Gabriel. It was not as popular with our staff, but it still has some meaning that may inspire you,” u _nlikely,_ he thought. “You are a shade of your former self, aren't you? Haven't you changed from who you used to be? Our final option is the Wight. A ghost, Gabriel. A supernatural being. Not all Wights are considered dark or evil in any respect, in fact, many of them are considered to be unfortunate. You _were_ quite unfortunate in all of the things that happened to you, not unlike make of the victims of this fight. They can see you as-”

“ _Fine,_ ” Gabriel growls bitterly, his voice growing raspy. “If it gets me out of this meeting-”

“This is important, Gabriel. This will become your new call sign. It will be on all your official paperwork- which brings me to my transition. Commander Winston.”

“Ah- yes.” The gorilla clears his throat and shrugs, “Well, now's as good a time as any, I suppose. Overwatch is going to be through some structural changes. As of right now, we don't have any official ranking system. We've loosely been using what we had before, prior to our cooperation with the UN. Now, however, we have the ability to assign official, formal ranks. This will be happening over the next few weeks. A public note will be going forward to all Overwatch Agents, informing them of the new structure. Additionally, each person will receive their new title, new badges and/or dog tags. Naturally, your tags will be replaced. Your call-signs will be _on_ these tags, which is why it is important that we close this issue, Gabriel.” Inwardly, Gabriel sagged. He really did not want a new name. He _liked_ his name, the way it had always been, even if the circumstances of how it was made were questionable.

“How long do I have before I have to make a decision, officially?” Gabriel asked, and Helena shrugged.

“There is no specific due date, Reyes, but the longer you wait, the longer you postpone your new tags and your official titles. I would not say more than a few months at absolute most.”

“A few months,” Gabriel repeated with a sigh. That seemed like something he could manage. Hell, for all he knew he could come up with something better. Not that Wight was bad- in truth, it wasn't. He didn't mind the name- it was _certainly_ better than _Dove_ , but... Reaper was who he had always been... Even before SEP ended. Before Moira had ever _begun_ her work on him. Ilyana, who he still barely remembered. In fact, he had only one memory of her, and even that was especially brief. Everything else? That had been dug up by research, buried in a pit of SEP garbage, so to speak. No one wanted them to know that they were responsible for Gabriel's... Mishaps during the program. _She_ had created Reaper... All his mind did was give it the name. _It was still his._

Two hours later, Gabriel was out in one of the envirodomes with Jaelen.

“So _WHAT_ if your name is Reaper?” She groaned, raking at some weeds angrily. “It's who you are, isn't it?”

“They're arguing that it's who I was. Not who I am now. I _have_ changed. And, they want me to change more.”

“ _How?_ And why?” She asks.

“They want me to be heroic, Jay. They want the standard hero that someone can look up to. Put the past in the past... All that, I guess.” His eyes dropped to the pile he had made and began to shovel it into a bin nearby, designated for compost. Something about it felt... Wrong. Changing everything about his identity to be something that someone _else_ decided was right. Gabriel _had_ changed, hadn't he? Why didn't he feel any different, then? Could he honestly say that in his rational mind, he felt like a completely different person than he did when he was Reaper?

No. No, he didn't. That had been a different circumstance, certainly, but in his mind? How he thought about things, weighed risks and rewards, made decisions and prioritized things? All of those had stayed exactly the same, and those, he would argue, made him who he was.

“I don't know,” Gabe adds indecisively, getting back to work. Jay stops her raking to glance over at him.

“Look, you're stressin' about this way too much. It's just a formality, right? I mean. Look. Ultimately, it's just a _name_. It's just a stupid title. I knew you as Gabriel Reyes, and then I knew you as Reaper. I still looked up to you. I always did- even when you were doin' some... Some terrible things. I knew you had a reason, and I knew that you had done good things before, too. You need to be more focused on what the world _needs_ , not what it wants, necessarily. They might want some preppy, pretty hero, but... That's not who you are or ever were, Gabi. You an' I both know it. I'm still going to think of you as Reaper, anyway. Besides... Wight, you said? That ain't so bad. Means the same thing, don't it?”

“Not... I mean. Not exactly. I mean...” Something still felt not entirely correct about it, but Gabe couldn't put his finger on why exactly. He sighed and shook his head. “I don't know. Maybe you're right. I need to give it more thought.”

“I mean do whatever makes _you_ feel better, Gabriel. If you ain't right with it, then don't do it. But they're gonna demand an answer sooner or later, ain't they? What happens at the end of a few months and you don't decide?”

“I don't know exactly.”

“.. Right well. You'll always be Reaper to me. As far as I see it, you were Reaper when you got yourself into the shit, and you were Reaper when you got yourself out of it. That's who you're gonna always be, regardless what they call you.”

Gabriel lets the conversation drop there while his mind considers the possibilities.

 

The following morning, Gabriel awakens alone in his bed, the warmth Jack left behind still keeping him content in the covers, though Jack is long gone- that man was always out of bed at some ungodly hour in a way that Gabe would never understand.

 

When his eyes crack open, there are eyes staring back at him.

 

But these aren't Jack's eyes.

 

They're barely even human.

 

Gabriel screams, launching himself backwards so forcefully that he explodes into a black mist that collides with the opposite wall, eyes popped, staring at these wide, round eyes that stare back at him from on top of Jack's pillow.

 

It's like a ball, and at first, Gabriel thinks its some kind of prank... Until it blinks. This small, round lump of black smoke eyes him without words- without a mouth, or any other facial features of any kind. Christ, does it even have legs? Gabe doesn't see any. No arms, either. No nose, or mouth, no ears... What even was this thing?

 

It slides off of the pillow towards him like a smoking pool of black ooze, and Gabriel screams again, sliding along the side of the wall until his hips hit the dresser.

 

Still, the thing _pursues_ him.

 

It occurs to Gabriel slowly, bit by bit, exactly what it is. Angela's voice echoes in his mind.

 

_There will be discharges. Excess nanites._

 

“Christ-” Gabriel murmurs to himself as he stares at the small blob, about the size of a grapefruit. Black eyes with a red ring around where a pupil would be, if it even had pupils. His hands staggered around behind him, searching for his phone before fingers suddenly caught the corner of it, and in his uncertainty, sent it flying off of the dresser onto the floor. He made a small panicked noise before sliding away from the dresser to fetch it.

Then, he flees.

Get to Angela, and tell her what the fuck.-

 

 _It's still following him._ Gabriel had wraithed through the door to his room and was racing down the hallways towards her office. This thing followed, bouncing along, sometimes wraithing along with him, sometimes becoming _more than one_ blob only to reform seconds later.

 

Gabriel came to a skidding, screeching halt, panting as he stared on, bewildered, as Jack stood outside of her office. The doctor was in front of him, impossibly happily _petting_ something in his hand... Another one.

 

“Oh, hey, Gabe. How you uh... Feeling?” Jack asked, his hands cupped to support the small, churring critter that was _eagerly_ accepting 'head' scritches. Gabriel felt a sudden impact with his ankle, and promptly shrieked, causing the small, chasing bean to shudder and grow momentarily smaller.

“A-Angela!? What the hell?!” Gabriel uttered, standing some distance from them, trying to keep the critter at bay.

“You know, we should consider ourselves lucky, Gabriel-”

“Is this...” Gabriel thought he had to be drunk, or high, or dreaming, or something.

Except he wasn't. This was real, and he was standing here in the hallway outside of Angela's office, who was _petting_ one of them.

“This is strange, okay? This is... Jack, stop holding that thing, Christ! We don't know anything about it-”

“... Actually we do, Gabriel. So do you.”

“When you said _discharges,_ you didn't say they'd be moving or... Or _watching_.”

“What? Gabriel, of course they can see. They're nanites. Just... Lots and lots of nanites. We're lucky that they're friendly, and not hungry. So long as we can keep them fed they should be-”

“We are _NOT_ keeping them! What the hell are you even-”

“They're cute, Gabe,” Jack seemed to plea, and Gabriel's lips formed the thinnest line before twisting into a frown, brows knitting.

“You two need to get a hold of yourselves. This is ridiculous! We don't even know what they're capable of-”

“Well... We know what they eat. That's a start. We know that they aren't aggressive-”

“ _Yet._ Shouldn't we like quarantine them or something for... for Study?”

“We already have one in the lab, Gabriel. Researcher Mei is getting along with it quite well-”

“W-What?! How many of them are there!?” Gabe is the only one in this situation who isn't comfortable.

“There were three when I woke up this morning,” Jack says, shrugging gently. He smirks. “You should have seen them. They were all just sitting on your back, staring at the back of your head. This one likes me.”

Near his ankle, Gabriel hears a chittering, and he steps away out of instinct, just now realizing what clothing he threw himself into in his panic- full tactical gear, of course, the standard, black coat and boots. Jack hands his bean off to Angela before coming over to pick up the one that Gabe incidentally brought with him.

“It's alright,” Jack insists. “We don't have to keep them in the room. Angela needs to study them anyway. You feel alright, right? That's what's important. Do you feel... Okay? Hungry?”

“ _I feel nothing,_ ” Reaper growls, and Jack smiles despite Gabe's sour demeanor.

“Looks like you feel just fine, then.”

“Gabriel,” Angela interrupts. “I will need to do some tests, of course. I need to make sure that these are just... Actually _excess_ nanites... As opposed to nanites that are leaving your body. They don't seem very eager to be away from you. The one in the lab is placated only because we fed it...”

“You fed it, Christ. These aren't stray dogs being turned into _pets,_ Angela!”

“No, no, they're not, Gabriel, but they're not exactly people, either, are they? We need to treat them like you would an animal. They may prove beneficial in the long run-”

“... What? Beneficial _how_?”

“Well, think about it, yes? If we keep them alive, then, if something happens where in you end up seriously injured... You can think of them like... A transfusion. They're yours- your DNA. _Your_ nanites-”

“ _Stop that,_ ” Reaper hisses, “Stop talking about them like they're my fucking children, Angela.”

Jack can't help the sudden snort of laughter and surprise, but perhaps wisely, he says nothing to the glare Gabe suddenly gives him

“Look. I'm just saying that it's good to keep them for just-in case.”

“How do you know they wont try to... To merge and become something bigger and more aggressive or...?”

“They still rely on human assistance, Gabriel. If they were going to merge, if they were going to do anything _else_ , they would have done so already.”

“... If nothing else, they're a liability. If Talon gets their hands on one of these-”

“ _I'll fucking kill them if they touch one of them,_ ” Jack snarls defensively. _Fuck,_ Gabriel thinks- Jack was _already_ attached. Gabriel turns away from them and starts to stalk back down the hallway, but he doesn't make it half way before the one that had been chasing him before suddenly _appears_ on his shoulder like a bird. The other follows shortly there after. Angela retreats to her lab, and Jack jogs to try to catch up to Gabe.

 

Later, after a few hours of testing, Angela called Gabriel with the updates... She insists that there's nothing wrong, and seems to imply that it's better if he was sitting down... Or at least, not in her office. Reluctantly, he stays in his room, with the two critters that seem more or less totally occupied with Jack for the moment, who plays with them in front of the fireplace, treating them like new kittens. They seem to act like such, and to the touch, it's almost easy to imagine that they have fur- the smoke takes whatever form they decide, usually ranging between fur and feathers at any given moment.

“Just get on with it, Angela. What's the news?” Gabe presses impatiently.

“Ah, yes... Well. You see, I was able to confirm some of my suspicions.”

“ _What_ suspicions, Doctor?” His raspy tone gives away his annoyance.

“Oh- Well, besides that they are not normal nanites, and that they're alive, and possess some kind of conscious... They do in fact appear to be breeding with the other nanites.”

“... Okay? So what? What does that mean? Did I really need to be sitting for this?”

“Gabriel, you don't understand what this means.”

“ _Should I?_ ”

“... Ah, no, I suppose not.” He hears the doctor make a small sort of strangled noise as she clears her throat. She struggles with her words.

“Well, at least, I can confirm that they are not omnics. Omnics don't breed. These nanites seem to be a perfect merger between flesh and metal. They're like a new species, Gabriel. They rely on your DNA to exist...”

“... Great. I'm a new species. _Fantastic._ ”

“Er, well, _you're_ not. They are. You're their host. They're a parasite, Gabriel.”

“ _Even better, I'm a host to aggressive, flesh eating parasites. Amazing._ ”

“Be nice, Gabe, they can hear you,” Jack chides from the floor beside where Gabe reclines on the sofa. The wraith rolls his eyes.

“Gabriel, you don't... I'm saying that... Hypothetically, if _your_ nanites ever encountered _other_ nanites, like themselves... But not from _you,_ exactly... That they could... That...”

It was slow, but the realization and a familiar, if ancient memory of basic seventh-grade sex-ed comes into Gabriel's mind. His eyes slowly widen. The phone slips out of his hand onto the floor with a thunk, momentarily spooking the three there. The wiser of the three turns and picks up the phone as Angela cautiously calls Gabriel's name.

“Hey... You alright?” Jack asks as he looks at Gabriel, who is _significantly_ paler.

“Y-Yeah... I mean. I think?” His eyes drop back onto the phone as Jack hands it to him, and he pulls it back to his ear. “Angela... Are you saying that... Are you saying that if there was _another_ person out there with _my_ condition... If our nanites _met_ they could...”

“...Create another person, Gabriel.” He wants to drop the phone all over again, but she continues. “The nanites would finally have a full code. They could grow, walk and breathe, talk, learn, just like human beings do. They could reproduce. We're looking at the next stage of human... And perhaps mechanical evolution. They would no longer need a host- they would no longer _be_ parasites... Who _else_ do you know that had abilities... Perhaps not exact, but _similar_ to yours?”

Gabriel wants to throw up in his mouth.

 

“ _Moira._ ”

 

Christ. Was that what she was doing? Was that what she had been trying? And why? For what purpose? _More importantly, did she succeed?_ What kind of creature would these nanites create?

“We need to tell the Commander about this,” Gabe interjects suddenly, the idea of a small army of half-Reaper monsters suddenly coming alive a new nightmare in the arsenal of his mind.

“I have scheduled a debrief for zero nine hundred tomorrow morning. You, Morrison, Ana, Myself and Winston will all be there. Sombra will be informed afterwards to start including sweeps in her scans for anything... _More like you._ ”

“Ethics, Angela. What would it mean for the new species?” Jack asks, involved all of a sudden. “Would these be considered Gabriel's kids?”

“... I wouldn't call them Gabriel's, exactly. Reaper's perhaps.”

“Doc, we're _one in the same._ ”

“There is a _reason_ Reaper followed that family around the holidays, isn't it? Hasn't anyone bothered to wonder why?” She abruptly rebukes, and Gabriel wants to shrink in his seat.

“I don't think that's why.”

“But you don't _know_ , do you? You don't know who they are, or where- and you remember almost nothing about them. Doesn't that strike you as at least slightly odd? Unless of course, something has changed. Do you remember them now?”

“I remember watching them. I don't remember why.”

“Exactly. I think it's worth investigating.”

“Sombra _specifically_ said that _not_ investigating them would keep them safer. I think we should at least find some kind of indication that Moira even _succeeded_ before we try to head up that investigation, don't you?” For some reason, Gabriel still feels protective over them... It's Reaper, speaking through his lips. _Whoever_ they were, they were important to him, and he did _not_ want them pulled into this war. “Besides. You can't call them Reaper's. Reaper and I are _one in the same._ It isn't like I named the nanites, Angela. I have _always_ been this way, even before they were with me.”

“ _Fine._ Then, they might be _the nanites_ offspring.”

“With _Gabriel's_ DNA...” Jack pointed out.

“And _hers,_ if it's true-” Gabriel hisses.

“It's possible that she gave someone else the abilities, you know. I saw some of the work she did back in the day. She was quite fond of using live subjects. There is no guarantee that the nanites wouldn't simply be merged with another one of her... Ah... Victims.”

Gabriel hadn't even thought about that, and nor did he want to.

“In the entirety of my time in Talon, I never saw _anyone_ else with abilities like mine, outside of the short bursts she could do herself... I think if she had succeeded that, Talon would have put them to use.”

“Maybe so. All this means is that we have a lot of work to do.”

 

And it was. The meeting the following morning was just as uncomfortable as Gabe guessed it would be. No one wanted to discuss what this could mean- that Gabe had relatives out there- relatives that _weren't_ Rosa and her kids. Relatives he _didn't know_ or know _anything_ about no less... Or what kind of monsters those things could be, if they existed at all.

 

Gabriel slips into the new tactical gear that has been delivered to his door. It's been improved, allegedly. While Jack rubs his thumb over the gleaming surface of their new dog tags, he glances over at Gabe.

“How does it fit?” he asked, watching as Gabe checks out the new attire in the mirror in his bedroom.

“Fine. Warm, I guess. To help me keep my body heat. The mask fits a little better... Night vision, target-finding. Helpful...” Red flecked eyes drop to the inside hem of the coat, where “ _Wight”_ has been inscribed in chrome thread. “A little presumptuous, maybe.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I haven't even given them the go-ahead on this call sign yet. I'm not sure I like it.”

“Ah... Right. They were probably just in a hurry to get the gear back to you after the last mission... Especially with... Well... Let's be honest, Gabe. These new missions you're going on are more high profile. You're not just a stealth operative anymore, and when you and I go out to see about this new riot, we're going to be in the public eye. It's the first time that the media will be allowed to get close to both of us. In one place no less... But we have to remember why we're there.”

Over the last two weeks, three attacks had broken out between humans an omnics, each one resulting in a fair amount of bloodshed in prominent cities. New York, Dubai, and Seoul. People had begun to riot in some areas that nothing was being done to properly soothe the tensions. Overwatch was now being assigned to visit those locations to try and ease tensions. The hope was that sending prominent familiar faces to the sites would help calm people's nerves while the world looked for a solution. As of yet, no one really knew what was sparking the attacks... They seemed to simply erupt out of nothing between unassuming humans and otherwise normal seeming omnics. Jack and Gabriel had been assigned to visit New York, as it was their home country and the UN felt like it would have a stronger impact there.

“ _A global, peacekeeping initiative,_ I know, Jack. I know... I just... I'm not sure how I feel about this new... Image I'm suppose to be portraying. People _know_ I'm not a hero. Not really-”

“... But they do, Gabe. They saw you. What you did, what you've gone through. The UN just thinks it would be better if you put away the fearsome look that you had before you got here.”

“And what about you?” Gabe asks, glancing over at Jack. The Soldier sighs and moves away from the dresser to approach Gabe, sliding around behind him and wrapping his arms around Gabe's middle.

“I... Don't find it frighting, Gabe. But then, I guess I never did. I'm not your average citizen. I'll support whatever you decide you want to do... I don't know you as well as you do. You say that you and Reaper are one in the same, that, you're the same person... But I've also heard you say you felt like you changed, at least a little bit.”

“A little bit... But now that the memories are all... More or less back in place, I don't know if that's true, Jack. The _way_ I process things hasn't changed. The only thing that's changed are my loyalties, and I don't know if that makes me a hero or not.”

“... Then I guess that depends who you ask, doesn't it? There are a lot of people who don't agree with what we do- with what Overwatch does, I mean.” Gabe can feel Jack's forehead tilt against the back of his neck, before fingers press the hood down a bit more and kiss the flesh. Jack sighs gently. “No one is innocent in this business anymore, Gabriel. No one is. You should do whatever you think is best.”

“They sent my dog tags anyway, Jack... And they inscribed the coat. It's pretty obvious what they want me to do.”

“I didn't say do what they want you to do. I said do what you think is _best._ ”

This makes Gabriel smile somewhat, and he turns to face Jack. They share a small, intimate kiss in front of the mirror before Jack presses the wraith's new dog tags into his palm.

“They've left your call sign empty for now. My guess is that they'll ask for the tags back to engrave them once you've made your decision.” Gabriel lifts his palm to let his eyes roam over the new, gleaming tags.

 

**GABRIEL “ ” REYES**

**CSO, Special Intelligence**

**475 63 1098 AB POS**

 

““ _CSO?_ ”” Gabriel asks as he stares at the tags. “They are going to go over the new ranks, aren't they?” His eyes shifted towards Jack, who had slipped on his own tags over a grey t-shirt. Jack looks... Good. In a way, it reminds Gabe of SEP, and he smiles, despite the hell that was.

“Tomorrow morning, eight AM.”

“You helped them make them, didn't you?”

“The Strike Commander didn't know a massive amount about Military Ranks, exactly. He didn't want to go with the exact US standards, especially since Overwatch is Global. He thought it might send the wrong message... So I helped him come up with something similar, but unique to Overwatch.”

“You didn't just... Make up words and call them ranks, did you?”

“What? God no, Gabriel.” Jack rolls his eyes, huffing before he moves towards the bed, which has, at this point, become _their_ bed. Jack is barely even in his room anymore these days, and Gabe can't help but prefer it this way.

Gabe, watching him, raises a brow. “Then, are you going to tell me what CSO means?”

Jack, crawling into bed, glances back at him.

“Chief of Spec Ops. Congratulations, Gabe.”

“... They didn't _demote_ me after the last stunt?”

“Not exactly. You went in there to rescue your Cadet- now Private- Carter. They saw that as meritable... And Despite how badly it went over, you did save a lot of kids. That always looks good to the UN. I made DO- Director of Operations... Same shit we were doing before. Different names. Ana made Lieutenant though... She's our boss now.” Jack laughs gently, and Gabe chuckles, moving over and wraithing effortlessly out of the new attire. He leaves in in a heap on the floor, letting Jack know how little he cares for the title that they're trying to force on him. Instead, he slips into bed in just boxers.

“And Fareeha? I heard she's here now, too. How's Ana taking that?”

“A real egyptian asp, Gabe. She's madder than hell... But, Fareeha made Special Intelligence, since she's our tie with Helix... I think Ana thinks it will help keep her out of trouble. _It won't._ Anyway.” The man's words are cut off with a small kiss as the shade draws closer to him, soaking up his body heat. They share a few more before weariness takes them.

 

The following morning is just as busy as expected. Everyone was running around working to get their new titles sorted. Not everyone in Overwatch had Tags. In fact, it was pretty much _only_ the people who went out in the field who got them. Everyone was clamoring, though, because there were higher ranks now up for earning, and everyone... Indeed, it seemed like everyone wanted them.

 

A pamphlet had gone out to every employee that morning with tags, if the Agent needed tags. Otherwise? It was just the booklet slipped into their mail slots beside their doors. Gabriel tentatively opened his as he hid in the back of the cafe with Jack, trying to get away from a hungry onslaught of employees wanting brief interviews to help their chances.

 

 **Strike Commander (SC) –** Winston

 **Lieutenant (Lt)** – Ana Amari

 **Director of Operations (DO)** – John “Jack” Morrison /

 **Chief of Spec Ops (CSO)** – Gabriel Reyes

 **Major General (MG)** – Reinhardt Wilhelm, TBD – Awaiting Approval from DO and CSO

 **Captain (CPT) –** Lena Oxton, five spaces available TBD

 **Special Intelligence Private–** Fareeha Amari, Hana Song, Lúcio Correia dos Santos

 **Stealth Ops Private –** Genji Shimada, Katie Hall, Jaelen Carter, Jesse McCree, Olivia Colomar

 **Chief Medical Officer** – Angela Ziegler

 **Chief Enginee** **r** – Torbjörn Lindholm

 **Specialist** (Medical, Science, Engineering, Grounds) – Check your personal Badge.

 **Private –** Check your personal badge.

 **Cadet –** New Recruits/In training.

 

From there, the booklet went on to describe every rank, and the responsibilities included within that rank. For Jack and Gabriel, it meant that they'd have to find another Major General to work with, as Lena had adamantly refused the higher rank, despite that Winston had been eager to give her the promotion. Still, Gabe was happy to see Katie on the roster, finally. It would be fun to work with her again, he thinks with a small smile.

“How are we going to fill these other Captain positions?” Jack asks, seeming mildly overwhelmed. “And another Major General? Do we even know anyone who has any experience in leading, or running a group of people the way Reinhardt does?”

“Not right off hand... It's not going to be easy... What about _trials,_ Jack?”

“...Trials? Like, like what? In SEP? Those ungodly death-missions?”

“Maybe not quite as hostile as those were. We need to look for people with potential, don't we? Look around,” he motioned the room, bustling with people- Cadets, Privates, Specialists, all of them. Many of them seemed eager to try and get into the higher positions. “We don't have _time_ to interview them all one by one. Especially not when we have to leave for New York _tonight_.

 

An hour later, after they've hashed out the details, Jack and Gabriel approach Winston with the idea of Trials. Winston, only after incessantly making sure that applicants won't be seriously hurt during the trials, reluctantly agrees. Gabriel gets underway with the engineers about turning part of the training center into a scenario chamber to run the drills in. Like in SEP, there are climbing obstacles, light turrets that will incapacitate instead of actually hurt, and there's multiple issues to overcome from a fighter's perspective. Jack meanwhile goes about making sure that news is publicly spread about the trials, and how to apply. This seems to calm down most of the clamoring over the position, but that doesn't stop a small flood of applications from washing into Winston's office the following morning.

But, the following morning, Jack and Gabriel aren't there to ease the load. Instead, they're standing in Central Park, in New York, surrounded by a few _thousand_ people. Some of them were protesters, who hate that the US Government isn't doing enough to stop the feud between Omnics and Humans.

“This war does not belong to the US alone,” Jack is saying. “It's everyone's. It's ours, theirs. Yours, and mine. Overwatch is helping to quell the violence. Overwatch is made up of _all_ of us. We have _all_ come together, and we have _all_ put our lives on the line at one time or another to try and make peace possible.” His speech continues, and eventually, eyes turn to Gabriel, who struggles with what to say. He doesn't want to say anything. Being here seems... Dangerous. Risky. If Talon wanted to kill him, here and now would be a great time to do so. Yet, if he didn't show his face, these people wouldn't believe he was real.

Slowly, he reached up and removed his mask. He cleared his throat.

“I have seen what the enemy is capable of,” He started, shaking his head, “I have seen it and I know that we cannot... We _can not_ overcome them as a divided people. Overwatch is doing what they can to find the root of these attacks. We know that they come from an unnamed Omnic force. We know that they do not value humans. We know that they _want_ this war just as much as Talon wants to put fear in our hearts! We can not let them.” He shakes his head gently again. “Judge your peers on their actions alone. Cast out those of you who would throw the first punch. Do not _fuel_ this rage they want to put into you. You must fight it, or else, we are all _lost._ ” _Be a beacon of hope, Gabriel. People don't want to hear that they're going to die if they fail._ His eyes turn down, and he can feel Jacks eyes on him, silently burning into him. Didn't he prepare something to say? _Oops._

“I... I have walked a long road,” He said finally, looking back up. “I have heard every rumor that could be spoken of me. I have seen the horrors I have committed. I have paid for those crimes... Do not inflict your own hatred upon these innocent people. We must remember who we _are._ We have to remember what is important to _us_ as a people! This... This fighting is not. The US is not strong enough on its own to stop this war. We must do it _together_. We have to agree to fight the _real_ enemy. Not each other. Not based on our origins, not based on our skins or religions. We are all _alive_ in this world, and everyone wants to _keep_ living, peacefully. Do not let these attacks of late discourage you to your omnic brothers and sisters. Be strong. Remember that if you give in, you give the enemy exactly what they want. Trust _Overwatch_ to keep you safe as we did once before. Trust _us_ to do our jobs as we once did... To keep you safe.” He trails off, and the crowd is quiet. Jack looks back out to them with a small smile. It's hard to know what kind of impact those words actually had on people. Either they were shocked to hear him speak, see his face, or to hear his actual _message_ , but no one argued. No one yelled. No one made a sound.

“Remember the horrors we have been through before,” Jack says, finishing their statements. “Remember what we have been through and what we have survived. We _are_ survivors. We did it together, before, united. We will do it again. Stay strong, and keep each other safe. Not all heroes wear a costume or a badge, carry a title or give speeches as a podium... Remember that. This is your city. This is _your_ country. These are _your_ people! Don't let the enemy take that from you.”

 

When it ended, the roar was so loud that Gabriel thought he was going to be deaf for eternity. It lasted little more than ten minutes while he and Jack rode back to their hotel to enjoy the rest of their night more or less _alone._  
  
Gabriel felt... _Alive_ , again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELP I HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOYED THIS CHAPTER- I tried to make it a bit more light hearted without backing down on any of the plot that you guys are enjoying! More to come, as usual. If you liked it, please let me know so in the comments below!
> 
> As always, your guys coments and feedback are what motivate me to keep doing this.
> 
> Thanks again, guys! ENJOY!


	6. Majesty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: Heavy Smut
> 
> Yes I'm aware this chapter is a few hours early. Whoopsie.

Riding in a fancy, armored car down the streets of New York brings back memories of LA for Gabriel. It's a nostalgic thing that he never realized he missed... For a long time, Cities were nothing but old nightmares for him. The image of fires rising into the broken shrapnel of buildings, the scent of melting asphalts and flesh... Stacks of black smoke rolling away from rooftops, the image of terrified civilians leaping from windows thinking that they'd rather die to gravity than to suffocation or burning alive.

It makes him flinch as Jack touches his thigh.

“Hey... You alright?”

Gabe glances over, the red flecked in his eyes is a constant reminder of how far they've come.

“I used to live in a place just like this, Jack. When I was a kid, sometimes on weekends we'd go into the city, away from our suburban parks just to look at the people. LA was... It was so many different kinds of people. A melting pot of cultures. We always enjoyed going to China Town and looking through all the shops, going to the underground markets and looking at all the cheap, fake things that we bought anyway. We would go into the authentic restaurants and listen to Henry struggle to order his meal in English. He was so... Light-hearted, then. He wanted to be a fireman, you know? Before everything. Wanted that... The way my mother wanted to be a dancer. She ended up working in a retirement clinic instead. Rosa always had her girlfriends around, and they'd all talk about what kind of lives they wanted to have.”

“And you, Gabe?”

“... Me? I mean. I guess I was interested in being a cop, or maybe going into law... Or business. I could never really decide.”

“What made Henry decide to join the army instead?”

“You probably don't remember. It was such a long, long time ago. Honduras. The riot there.”

The riots, the first signs of real Omnics. At the golden age of Science, at some point, machines had stopped being machines, and began to cry out against their makers... Large corporations that, to no one's surprise, no longer existed now. At first it was just a few small outbreaks. The first omnics were little more than animals, starting to learn that they could make their own choices and be their own beings. The concept of right and wrong was hard to discern when terrified humans were just as inclined, if not more incline, to destroy them or have them melted down as opposed to listen and believe. Honduras was one of at least twenty five riots that broke out around the world.

“Henry felt like a war was starting. He knew, I guess... He decided that being a fireman wasn't enough anymore. When he didn't come home, I decided.... Maybe being a cop wasn't enough either, and law was only good when defending people against other _people._ Rosa... Rosa never saw any of that darkness. She only saw that her life was going to be more difficult, and she accepted that. She adapted. She always wanted to leave California anyway, but not the way she did. I was already in the program by the time she first moved. I don't even remember all the places she went. I just know that eventually she settled down with... Jake? Yeah, something like that.”

“And now she's in a safe house,” Jack said, trying to sound reassuring.

“A safe house that she was forced into by the government, Jack, trying to hide her from _people._ That was never what I wanted for her... But what _I_ wanted for her was never part of her plan, she'd become much more independent. After our mother passed, she became so strong. The last time we spoke, she said they might move her again.”

“Why? And where?”

“We don't know yet, but because the cameras are still sniffing around in places they shouldn't. It just makes me... Wonder... About all of this.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean... If Talon is still around, or if these new omnics manage to stir up the war Talon wanted in the first place. I feel for the first time in a long time like I'm _alive_... Like... Like something that I do might actually make a difference, and there's this horrifying thought that _if_ Moira actually succeeded the way Angela says was possible, what if I am partially responsible for the _next_ onslaught- the next step in... What did she say? Human and Machine evolution. I don't think I want that. I don't think I want to see what could happen. Part of me wants to run... As _far_ away as I possibly can from all of this... Break away from it the way Rosa has tried to. To disappear somewhere... Don't get me wrong. All those people, looking at me, listening to me. It was nice to get it off my chest, but that's not who I am. It's not who I've ever been. I was meant to work behind the scenes, in the darkness somewhere...”

“Ah, Gabe,” Jack says reaching over to gently squeeze his forearm, “that's just the nerves getting to you. You shouldn't blame yourself for being responsible of what's to come. You've only done what you thought was best... You did all you can, under the circumstances... You never volunteered to have those things put into you, Gabe-”

“ _Actually, I did_. We all did, Jack. We had no idea what they were pumping into us, and you know it. We agreed anyway. That was exactly what the program wanted.”

“Yes, but the researcher who was working on you was _removed_ from the program. Don't you think that says something about what she did, or what the program thought of what she was doing? It was wrong, and it wasn't part of the deal. Everyone knew that. You have come to accept what was done to you despite all the trauma it brought. I think that's commendable.”

Gabriel sighs and glances out the car window, and he can feel Jack's hand slip away.

“Don't worry, Gabe. Someday we'll get away from all this.” His words are like a promise.

 

When they reach the hotel room where they'll stay the night, Gabe drops his comparatively small travel bag by the door by walking to the far wall. They're fifteen stories high, and there are tall windows. It's obviously a suite by the presence of a living area and two separate rooms, despite that they obviously don't need it. Jack watches Gabe, nerves stirring inside himself. Was now the time he'd been waiting for? No. Not yet. Gabe's mind was heavy. Jack would have to wait.

Besides, they didn't feel safe here, neither of them did, even if they had been fine out in the public eye. Jack smiles as he approaches the brooding wraith who has already started to draw the curtains closed.

“Hey, there's a hot tub in my bathroom,” he offers deeply, trying to pull Gabriel out of his memories. The shade twists like a ghost to face him, a hand sweeping up to lightly comb claws over the back of Jack's head.

“ _Not tonight, cariño._ ”

“Awe... Come on. Look at this place...”

“Jackie,” Gabe sighs, ghosting away from him. It was true, they hadn't been to a hotel in... Ever, come to think of it. This was a nice place, and Jack wanted attention to make up for the time they lost while he was injured. It seemed like the Soldier could never get enough. Gabe smirked faintly, sweeping up his bag and depositing it in his room as he looked back from the foot of his bed. Jack stands in the middle of the room, still dressed in his Overwatch-blue suit. They both were. For a moment, Gabriel can see that blond-haired Strike Commander standing there with his medal... Proud and heroic... Now, vaguely thirsty. Whenever they had been on good terms, Jack could never get enough of him. Reaper slowly moves towards him, letting his shadows out now that they're not in the public eye. He lets that darkness come to his skin and to his eyes. Jack can almost feel his knees go weak- he's looking at a familiar Captain that once stole his heart and never returned it. “ _Is this really what you want, Jack? Here in this fancy place? You can put me in a suit but you know... I'm still a demon on the inside._ ” Jack had always responded so well to Gabriel's dirty talk, even if it wasn't always amazingly worded.

“ _That's why I want it,_ ” Jack panted faintly as the claws on Gabe's left hand cupped his square jaw and tugged down, goading him down onto his knees. No, Gabriel wasn't particularly in the mood with where his mind had been, but... Jack needed this, somehow. Reaper could tell by the look in those blue eyes that this was fulfilling some kind of fantasy for Jack.

“This is a bad idea, Jack,” Reaper warns softly as the Soldier starts to undo the buckle on Gabe's belt, and the zipper following that. A rough hand palms him through the fabric, trying to coax him to full size.

“It's risky... I know. That's part of the fun, isn't it?”

A small moan is forced out of Gabriel in the form of an exhale as Jack brings his face close, tugging the slacks down. Gabe can feel the man's hot breath through his boxers.

“ _Relax_ ,” Jack tries gently, his nose pressing slightly against the bulge forming at Gabriel's front. “ _No one's been seen from Talon in months, Gabe. There's no one left to hunt us here._ ”

Reaper really wanted to believe that, but he knew better. Amélie had survived, which meant it was still possible that she could come after them. At least, he could hope that her tech had been broken in the battle... Maybe she couldn't track them through the windows... “You wanted me in the hot tub,” Gabriel suddenly reminds Jack in an attempt to move them somewhere safer while his paranoia reared its head. Jack looks up, palm still pressing against the swollen tent he's managed to make in Gabe's pants. The Soldier smirks softly.

“If you really don't want to do this-”

“ _God. I do, alright? Just... Just not here._ ” Reaper had grown impatient and needy. Jack had riled him up, and now, there was no forcing him back into his cage. He can hear Jack's small laugh from where he kneels.

“ _Move me, then,_ ” the Soldier boldly taunts, and Reaper can't help his sudden desire to put Jack back into a submissive pose.

 

And he does.

As effortlessly as Jack started undressing him, Reaper had just as effortlessly gripped the base of his throat and coaxed him, if a bit roughly, towards the nearest wall, and another after that. Heated kisses keep them preoccupied as they made their way to the bathroom, shedding clothing in uneven piles along the way, and by the time they arrive, Gabriel has turned his belt into a leash that he uses to bed Jack down over the expensive, cold, cream-toned marble counter. In the mirror in front of him, Jack can see Reaper behind him, he can feel the chill of his skin and the tightening of the leather around his throat, the metal belt buckle that clinks against the stone surface his cheek is pressed into. He can feel the other three hands latch onto him, plucking into his skin. One of them flees for the briefest of moments, and he can hear the sink turn on behind him. Then, a wet palm and slickened fingers pry against his back side, pushing him open, teasing the opening before carefully pushing inside. Gabriel was always extremely careful with this- he knew better than most how much damage his claws could do, and what they were made for. Yet, somehow he managed expertly not to let them dig into Jack's sensitive opening, at least, not in a way that would be painful or dangerous. Instead, the pad of his finger presses against the tight muscle, making Jack gasp until Reaper tightens the make-shift leash. Jack wants to whine, but he knows that Reaper's going to take every whimper as an excuse to shut him up even further... And he adores being made to be quiet. It reminds him of SEP, those dirty nights they spent in his quarters, getting into each other as illegally as they possibly could. Jack would never forget how completely relentless Gabriel was when he wanted something... And Gabe hadn't even wanted this _that_ badly.

Reaper, meanwhile, has completely consumed Gabriel's rational, paranoid, thinking mind. Jack is his prey, his toy in this moment upon which he can unleash his most illicit desires. Jack can hear each of the wraith's heated, growled breaths. He can see the smoke as it rolls off of Gabe's flesh, into his eyes and gets sucked into every quick, shallow breath the belt around his throat lets him take. The more he's pried open, the sharper his gasps get. Jack can feel beads of sweat form on his forehead out of anticipation.

Little could prepare him for Reaper's actual length when he finally felt it brush up against his opening. The ghost allowed him to feel each inch of it as he teased it across the entrance before finally slickening it with saliva and pushing the head down into position. The Soldier knew this was going to be rougher than usual, since they didn't exactly have lube on hand. Saliva could only go so far, but it had worked before, and it would work again. When finally the man's hips began to push forward, Jack struggled not to let the whimper out of his lips that wanted to come. Every time he failed, Gabriel would tighten the belt a little bit more, making breathing more difficult. Jack's hands felt like useless, dead weight, supporting him on the sink where he was pinned, and in an effort to relieve himself, the left dragged off of the cold surface to reach for his own neglected manhood.

Reaper didn't let it get that far, snatching it by the wrist only to then pin it at the small of his back, causing Jack to cry out as the muscle was tested. Again, the leash tightened, so much so that Reaper pulled him up by it, so that dark lips could whisper into his ear... A cold, seductive threat that made Jack's knees want to collapse out from under him.

“ _One more sound, Jackie, and I'll edge you all night without the relief you crave. If I want you quiet... You stay quiet. Do we understand each other, Pet?_ ”

Jack could have cum right there. Hearing Gabriel say anything in that voice drove him mad. His lids felt heavy and he nodded, not wanting to disobey.

“ _Say it, Soldier._ ”

Jack struggled to breathe, let alone say anything, but the strangled tone in his voice seemed to be what turned Reaper on, so he nodded again and raspily responded.

 

“ _Yes, Master._ ”

 

That title threw Reaper into a small, vicious sort of frenzy. Shoving Jack back down against the counter top, he pinned both the man's hands with two of his own, a third holding down the leash while the last dared to creep around one of Jack's hips, getting close to his length but never actually touching it as a means to tease the Soldier as he got into him again, and again. Repeatedly, he let himself sink into the man, stretching him to fit the girthy member before drawing out only to press back in again. The tightness alone was almost enough to bring Reaper to finish, but it was watching Jack suffer in this way, watching him quiver beneath him and choke down every urge to moan that really did it for him. All the same, he rode against the Soldier for an hour before finally letting him finish, and then finishing himself.

Afterwards, Jack was little more than a man-shaped pile of quivering nerves, spent and exhausted. Gabriel took the man in his arms in a sort of embrace, kissing him and pressing his nose along the underside of Jack's jaw as he turned him around, pulling away the belt. Gently then, the wraith coaxed Jack into the hot tub he had wanted so badly, and proceeded to clean him up. The aftercare was always something Jack had enjoyed, even if he hadn't really seen it until the beginning of Overwatch.

 

Room service would deliver a bottle of wine to their hotel later that night, along with two plates of rather expensive steak and a heap of fixings- more than the two could ever possibly finish by themselves, followed by desert. They had the option of watching one of the latest movies on a large screen in the living room, but instead, they opted to stare out into the night-time New York skyline, talking and reminiscing as they ate and drank to their hearts content.

 

 _Today would have been perfect,_ Jack thinks as he watches Gabriel pass out on his bed beside him.

 

Within two days of arriving back home, Jack and Gabriel are staring at a handful of Trial applicants. Many of them are Privates that they'd seen in the training room before, either learning from Jack, or Genji, some of them had even worked with Jesse a few times.  
They were promising, each of them.

As soldiers.

None of them were proper leaders. Not, at least, like what was required for a Major General. At some point, Reinhardt even offered to train his _Squire_ for the position- at least until just about everyone else immediately vetoed the idea of raising someone that young to a rank so high. No one that young, and new to Overwatch, should be given so much power, everyone seemed to agree. Torbjorn was unexpectedly mute on the issue. That was the last that the Junior Engineer was even suggested for the position, as Gabriel and Jack quickly moved on to other, more promising candidates.

Every day, they met in an observation room over the training center, and watched as group after group ran the scenarios, which were randomized to force the potentials to think on their feet. The ability to improvise and think quickly on their feet in certain crises was an absolute must.

And each of them, one by one, failed the tests. Some of them managed to complete the exercise, but not without losing their entire team to sloppy mistakes, or a desire to be the heroic lone-wolf.

None of them were cut out to be Major General.

Jack, Ana, Gabriel and Reinhardt were sitting there on the last day of the trials. Gabe and Jack looked suitably exhausted while Rein sweat bullets, watching on through the thick, soundproof, bulletproof glass overlooking the course. Occasionally, he spat loud advise that they could not possibly hope to hear. Ana hung her head with a sigh.

“This is not good. What are we going to tell the Commander?”

“We'll obviously have to train someone. But whether or not we have time for that-” Gabe started, only to be cut off by Jack, who stared with a glare through the window.

“We don't have _time_ for that! If Talon is abducting children and taking Shimada and Deadlock prisoners, we need to know why. We can't afford to wait and see what they're doing with them. For all we know, they could be re-conditioning them to be soldiers to cover their losses from the last fight.”

“I would be more concerned about _who_ is doing it, Jack,” Gabe insists. “Not _why._ That's easy enough to guess. But, Akande and Moira are dead, Widowmaker is... Indisposed, Vialli has been dead for over a year... Sure, there are other council members, but were they as prominent as any of those? No. It's possible that one of them had stepped up. Inherited the company. We need to know their new direction- if they _have_ a new direction, anymore. Without Akande at the helm, they may not have the same goals anymore. We need to know what it is.”

“We could _use_ an insider,” Ana says with a small sigh, knowing that with Sombra's cover blown, it was going to be hard to achieve that. “But they will be careful about new recruits... And now that everyone knows you're alive, getting you into and out of locations is going to be even more difficult.”

“So we'll keep an eye out for someone with potential... What about _this_ then?” Jack asks, gesturing at the arena, where on-hand technicians are freeing the failed applicants from their light paralysis incurred by the bot's shots.

“We'll just have to tell him we need more time,” Reinhardt said, sighing as he moved to stand, combing thick fingers through white hair. “Time to cool off, I think.” Everyone else agreed, and Ana went to talk to Winston while Jack and Gabriel made their way down to the envirodomes for a relaxing jog. It took them a few minutes to change, but sooner or later, they arrived and started their path along the paved, rubbery track that ran through the tree-covered shaded exterior along the inside of the cavern's walls with its overhead sunlight mirrors.

 

They hadn't been jogging more than five minutes when they ran into a strange sight.

Olivia, sitting at a picnic bench in the shade, beset by another, fairly large shadow cast by a monolithic woman with pink hair.

Zaryanova.

“You know I _am_ curious how you, out of all people, found out my name. I went out of my way to make sure as few people knew about it as possible.” Sombra sounds mildly annoyed.

“Door to door, asking. I suppose no one wanted to lie to me,” the Russian woman smirks, pleased with herself. “But you should have simply come to me right away when you knew I was on to you.”

“Sorry, I guess an investigation by a Russian _mech_ company wasn't exactly the top of my list-”

“It wasn't because of the mechs, and you know it. You threatened our President-”

“I was working with Talon! I had to look the part, at least mostly.”

“What did you want with her? You did not ask her for anything specific.”  
“I was testing her. I wanted to see how open she was to actually being persuaded. That would have said a lot about her intentions with the company. She never told you she was trading with Omnics. Didn't you find it odd that she assigned you to work with one?”

“Lynx is not like other omnics.” Zarya sounds sour that there were things her boss did not tell her.

“Oh _really?_ Let me guess, he has personality, humor and insight? Of course he does. Just like some _humans_ don't. No one is exactly the same. That is exactly why they're _just_ like us. It isn't just programming, you know? Your boss knew that.”

“You say that- you never saw the war. Not like _I_ did.”

“Oh? _Didn't_ I? You might know my name, Zaryanova... But you know nothing about _Sombra._ ” The hacker seemed slightly miffed as she rose from the seat and turned to storm off, only to find herself face to face with the two super soldiers. Huffing, she brushed passed them and moved on, leaving the two in bewilderment.

Gabriel, at least slightly defensive, approached the table where Zarya still sat. “I would be hesitant about upsetting her, Ambassador. She's a clever girl, and her motives here are her own. You have no idea what the war did to her.”

“Do _you,_ CSO?” Zarya asks as she spells out his new title. She'd obviously received the same sheet as everyone else had.

“In fact I _do,_ ” Gabe utters, lips pulling into a small, disapproving frown. But, beside him, Jack nudges him.

“Zaryanova,” he asks, “What exactly do you do for the President?”

“Before becoming the Russian Ambassador to Overwatch, I was a Soldier for the Russian Defense Forces. I will do anything that is asked of me to protect my people.”

“I'm not questioning your own motives, Aleksandra,” Jack rebukes somewhat gently. “It's just that I overheard what you said to Sombra... About the war. What you saw.”

 _Why did Jack care about this,_ Gabriel wondered, perhaps wisely falling quiet and watching as the Soldier moved forward and slid into the seat across from her. Gabe moved closer, but remained quiet. Zarya's lips form a thin line. It isn't a story she wants to tell, but she feels like she has to.

“When I was just a child, the omnics came. My town, my _home_ was the first to see the bloodshed. We lost... Everything. Some of us escaped with our lives. I saw what those machines were capable of. We had to rebuild... And I told myself I would help rebuild it. I would rebuild myself, too. I became strong. I started doing tournaments... I was primed to take a record when the dormant Omnium revealed itself... Not so Dormant after all. I had to ask myself- what do I want more? A gold metal... Or a victory for my people? So... I left. I left my sport and enlisted. I have been working with them ever since. Before I was here, I was awarded the rank of Sergeant. When I go back, it will be waiting for me.”

“Sounds like you and Olivia have more in common than you think,” Gabe replies finally. Both had been children during the time of the war. Sombra had lost much of her family, and was forced to reshape her future. Aleksandra? Not so different, it would seem.

“ _I_ do not lie and cheat and steal to make a difference in the world, _Chief_ _Reyes._ ”

“CSO is fine,” He corrects before cracking his neck, mildly annoyed at the stab clearly made Sombra's way. “She does what she does to help us, and to help millions of people around the globe. Not just _her_ people, but everyone.”

“Something you could do too, Zarya,” Jack interrupts, and Gabe abruptly gawps at him. _What the hell was he thinking?!_ Zarya didn't approve of Omnics, so how exactly was she going to help _everyone_? “No, listen,” he says, calming Gabe down. “Overwatch needs solid Soldiers. You have been with us now for months. Are you really that upset that the search you were sent on lead you here? You can do just as much, if not more good here than in Russia. Here, you can help more than just one country.”

“... What are you suggesting, Director?”

Gabriel wants to scream, but Jack continues.

“Tomorrow, 0800 hours, in the training room. Show us what you're capable of and we'll talk further.”

“For _what_ purpose, _Morrison?_ ”

“I want to see how much fighting omnics has done for you. We are on the cusp of another omnic war, and you have slain hundreds, if not thousands of them in battle. We could use you here. If you're interested, you'll show up tomorrow at zero eight hundred, and do a scenario with a team.”

The tall Russian moves to stand, saying nothing on the offer, brows knitting.

“Afternoon, Gentlemen,” She utters shortly before turning and walking away. Gabriel grips Jack's shoulder somewhat firmly after she's out of earshot.

“What the hell are you thinking, Jackie? Zarya? A _fit_ for Overwatch? She can barely handle a mission with a freelance omnic hacker without getting into a fight. Do you really think she's going to be capable of working with _us?_ ” There were cyborgs in Overwatch, and Omnics, and ex-terrorists, and talking Gorillas for that matter. Was her biased way of thinking really going to go over?

“I don't know, Gabe, but this is what I _do_ know. She has been a hero in her country for years. She knows how to fight, and she knows how to work with other people. She did eventually come to accept Lynx, even if he is omnic. She could, and would eventually come to accept others working here in Overwatch. Knowing that her boss worked _with_ Omnics to make their country safer, or at least in an attempt to, may soften the blow of adapting to the new environment. And if she can, her knowledge and technique could be invaluable in battle. She wants to help her people- and like it or not, some of her people _are_ Omnics, or at least some of them _will_ be in the future. She needs us if they want to succeed against... Who _ever_ these new omnics are, and I'm willing to bet she'll do anything to make sure another village isn't melted to the ground the way her's was. The worse case scenario of this is simply that she isn't able to work with the team we give her, and we send her back to doing her normal duty. It _can't_ hurt to try, Gabriel.”

“... Fine, alright. I just... I can see this going very badly. If she's in a tight spot, she might decide it's better to let her omnic team mates die in order to save the humans. We can't have that kind of bias in Overwatch. You know that.”

“I know... And it's a risk... We just have to see, alright?”

“ _But really, Jack? Zero eight hundred? Christ. That means we have to be awake at six._ ”

“Eh, Yeah, I guess... But at least we'll know quickly if she's a viable solution or not. We can talk about finding someone else if she fails.”

The two resumed their jog after Jack texted Ana with the new development, as it were. She was every bit as skeptical as Gabriel was.

 

She was late but at least she was there. It was eight thirty before she arrived, and her team, a mix of applicants and soldiers of all varying races and types- including two omnics- were waiting for her. At first, there were some skeptical looks when she showed up on scene, but she looked, and sounded, ready to work. Everyone was equipped with their standard weapon of choice, which included Zarya's massive gun that probably weighed as much as four Tracer's glued together. Possibly more.

 

If she had an issue with her two omnic team mates, she did not show it outright. One at a time, she asked each of her members what their specialty was before turning her eyes towards the course, her eyes towards the window up above. All of the higher ups were in the window today, including Winston. Even Torb had shown up... With enough popcorn for everyone. She nodded her head that she was ready. Winston spoke over the comm device, giving instructions.

“The goal is to capture the flag and bring it back to your home square. However, there are also two groups of hostages being kept on either side of the arena. Additionally, there is a hidden explosive somewhere on the course. You have two options- you can either finish the entire scenario before the bomb goes off, or, you can attempt to diffuse the device and take your time getting everyone out alive. If the bomb explodes, you fail the mission. Understood?”

“Ready for battle, Commander.”

 

And suddenly, a horn sounded, signifying a start of the match, and numbers below the window began to count down from fifteen. Presumably, that was the time before the bomb went off. Zarya turned to her team of nine, ten with herself included, and started barking orders.

“You two snipers, you will go right and secure the hostages from afar- take out any long range targets. You,” She pointed to a thicker Soldier armed with a pulse rifle, a model similar to Jacks. “You will go in to escort them out once they are secure. Kill any patrols in your path. Three scouts- you two will take the path on the left. Start looking for the bomb if you find it within five minutes, diffuse it. If you don't, reinforce either side with hostages. You,” She said pointing at the third. “You will come with me to secure the flag.” Three left, the two omnic soldiers, and a medic. “You two will go for the hostages on the left. Medic, you are with me and this scout. Once we have retrieved the flag, we will reconvene here.”

“Are you sure that a single scout and a medic is all you will need? The main path to the flag is heavily guarded-”

“ _I am counting on it,_ ” Zarya snapped, “Do not _question_ me again. Go, NOW!”

 

The arena was shaped much like a rectangle, with interconnected maze-like walls and climbing or crawling obstacles. Additionally, there were a few perches for sniper-types to get to, which allowed slightly better viewing of the arena. The paths were largely put together out of metal, but in some areas, raised mounds of sand or dirt posed terrain threats meant to slow and stumble soldiers. In other places, debris blocked paths, forcing them to go up and over or around. Turrets and patrolling bots kept watch over each and every path either needing to be dealt with or avoided.

It was only a few seconds before the snipers found their perches and started firing away, the sound of their rifles ringing off of the arena walls. Gabe couldn't help but notice the way that Zarya had distanced herself from her two omnic team members. Was that part of the test? Possibly. Still, she had put them to use, and they were doing well on the left, mowing through turrets as they moved, taking only a little damage in the process. On the right, the first group of hostages were released, and the assigned Soldier began to move in to escort them back. The light ammunition they were using lit up the pit in flashes of bright white or blue, and tore bots to shreds.

Zarya meanwhile? She did not take the stealthy approach that her scouts did, who were currently unsuccessful in finding the bomb. Instead, she was charging up through the main path, sometimes outright smashing through obstacles with her raw strength and the weight of her body and gun to make it faster. When her medic slipped on slicked ground, she leaned down to pull her to her feet without a word before rushing on. When finally a set of turrets found them, she ordered the two behind her to get down as a neon pink shield enveloped her entire frame, absorbing everything that was fired into her. Then, she unleashed that torrent back upon her attackers, destroying them. It was an impressive display, especially when she used one of their dead bodies as little more than ammo, using a graviton to suck all of the bots into a pile on one side. The writhing mound, meanwhile, promptly exploded in its attempts to sort itself out. After that, if anything moved, she blasted it. Once or twice, the scout with her ran out in front, assigned to do so as a shield was projected onto them as they sped through turrets too slow to catch them. All of this powered the woman up, shot by shot making it so that she was a glowing, frightening ball of fury. She took the flag, and on the way back, melted anything in her path with the remaining power in her gun and armor.  
The hostages were saved, and the flag retrieved in little over ten minutes. The bomb never even had a chance to go off.

 

Gabe could have heard a pin drop in the observation chamber where they all sat as the victory buzzer went off and she stood victoriously hoisting the flag over her head.

 

“Well...” Winston started all of a sudden, trying to break the quiet.

“I don't know that I would call that teamwork- she sent everyone off on their own!” Torb interjected rudely.

“She protected the people who were _with_ her,” Reinhardt protests.

“She prioritized people based on their skill to their respective tasks. Smart.” Ana seemed impressed.

“She sent the omnics off somewhere else, so that she wouldn't have to work _with_ them,” Gabe reminds.

“She made a plan in a pinch and stuck with it. She knew what she had to do and she did it, without hesitation. That's brave- and she was successful.” Jack, too, seems impressed.

“Well it was... Certainly very fast, wasn't it? I don't think any of the others finished that quickly or that successfully.”

“But one could argue that if her team mates had not been as skilled in their jobs, they could have easily failed. She could not have done this without them.” Rein was pleased with the result, but he saw flaws in the strategy.

“Reinhardt is right. Without the others, she could have easily lost both hostages. She took a gamble that the two scouts would be able to find the bomb and diffuse it in time-”

“Yet, she pushed fast enough to make it unimportant,” Jack added to Gabe's critique.

“Otherwise making the scouts _useless,_ Jack. They could have been put to use elsewhere, probably.”

“Undoubtedly, we all would have done this a little differently, but the fact of the matter is she _did_ succeed, and, she _trusted_ her team enough to do their _jobs_ properly. She didn't question them or second guess their capabilities. Yes, she sent the omnics away from her, but she entrusted them with an important job... Think about it, Gabe- she effectively completed the course with _eight_ people instead of ten... That's impressive. Yes, her strategy needs work, but we can improve on that. _You_ can improve on that.”

Did Gabriel really want to work with her? No, but Jack was right, and everyone knew he was.

“So, we will train her then... At least a little. She just needs some guidance. I can help her with that,” Rein offered, seeing the mild look of disdain on Gabe's face.

“...Very well, then,” Winston says. “We will give her as much training in two weeks as we can before we put her on active duty. Her first few actual missions will be done with you, Wilhelm. Reyes, I will be advising her to meet with you a few times a week to discuss strategy on paper. Written tests followed by scenario training to help her.”

“Understood, Commander.” Gabriel sighs faintly. It seems like he isn't getting out of it.

 

So Zaryanova was appointed as Major General. There was a murmur of discontent around Overwatch for at least a week or two before it began to die down, but slowly, the team began to get used to her company- and she began to get used to theirs. The team forces her, a few times at least, to work with teams not only including Omnics, but sometimes, entirely _composed_ of Omnics, making her face the music, or so Gabriel called it.

He thought he would die with the hours he spent teaching her about strategy and working with a team, but each night, Jack reassured him that this was possible. It was amusing to Gabriel, considering how much the two had not gotten along when Reaper had first gotten aboard their ship back on the outskirts of Moscow, over a year ago.

 

 

All the while, She watched. A god with a magnifying glass.

 

She watched while Overwatch turned and revolved, healed and rebuilt. She watched as the instrument of their last defeat woke, then walked, then fought and fed. Reaper had survived.

 

“My Queen,” a metallic voice cut over the hum of her thoughts, and she twisted in her place, turning away from the wall of monitors that had become her resting place... The throne of intelligence, she called it. Her throne, watching everyone and listening to every word she could manage. Tapped in to every line her wires could reach. “The Talon Ambassador has not responded to your offer in some time. What are your orders?”

Her voice was thick and deep, like honey laced with poison, acidic, heavy with manipulation and sarcasm, an undeniable power.

“Maximilian... The proud casino owner... Another keystone of Talon's foundations. He could help us. He has influence... And money. Not that we are strapped for funding... No...” She turns back to the monitors, watching from afar as ships come and go from the Dolomites- the ' _hidden'_ Overwatch headquarters... She talks aloud as she thinks, making no effort to hide her intentions from those around her. “...He will find his way home. One way or another. He's... Confused. He thinks it's there, with them. With her. It's so obvious- Akande is... _So blind._ ”

Sharply, she looks back at her guardsman, who kneels below the three steps that lead up to her mechanical throne of bent and scorched shrapnel- a true relic from the crisis. He does not move or flinch, almost completely devoid of emotion- truly devoid, not like Amélie pretended to be.

“Increase the outbreaks. Make this little... Peacekeeping game a routine for them.”

“And the humans, Majesty?”

Her mechanical, golden lips fall into a thin line, her eyes, shifting from white-gold to red, level on him where he kneels at the foot of the stairs. The light overhead casts streamers of shadow threateningly from her pointed crown towards his figure.

 

“Make them all bleed.”

 

. . .

 

“Make them scream.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading, guys! As always, I hope you enjoyed the chapter and please let me know what you think. IRL has been a little bit hectic lately with our apartment complex and getting things done, so I haven't been able to write as much. I don't forsee any major delays in chapters, but I think it's fair to give you a heads up that there MIGHT be some delays. I will try to keep them coming every other sunday as expected.


	7. Rust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Gore

Jack bolts upright first, in response to the sudden, loud alarm that blares from the holo-screen beside Gabriel's bed on the wall, eyes struggling to adjust to the way all of the lights in the wraith's quarters have gone from their default settings to pulsating bright red. In that same instance, the familiar chill of Gabriel's body simply ceases to exist as the man explodes into a sable fog and reforms at the end of the bed, panting. Neither of them speaks or even bothers to look at one another. They know what the alarm means- they've heard it before. It's identical to the alarm that went off whenever Doomfist broke out of prison- no one really wants to think about what it could mean; they just know it's bad.

Rushing into their clothing, Gabe is out the door long before Jack is, but the Soldier catches up as they rush towards the command center. All through the base, lights have shifted from their calming pastel tones to red, either slowly pulsing or staying bold and bright. As usual, people collect in the halls anywhere that there are screens. Most people rush to the public common areas like the cafe or the hangar or training room while many of the most predominant faces in Overwatch head straight for the labs or the command center. By the time Jack and Gabriel arrive, Ana is already here with Winston. Reinhardt arrives seconds later, barely dressed.

“What now?” Ana asks, her voice laden with heavy anxiety and worry. As was to be minorly expected, the woman has been on edge ever since Pharah joined their ranks a few weeks ago, despite that the two do not see each other on missions. The new Major General arrives seconds after Reinhardt does, looking especially calm and collected, despite the obvious panic all around them. It's a refreshing thing to see. Her stern look and straightforward approach to the havoc is a stabilization that the group didn't know they needed until now.

“Sydney,” Winston says, pushing a few buttons on the command console before him to put up as many displays as he can of the commotion.

“Sydney was almost completely destroyed years ago,” Zarya points out.

“Yes, but many of Australia's surviving people still made their homes in that ruin. Almost anyone who didn't want anything to do with Junkertown-”

“Who would attack Sydney, and why?” Jack asks the question on everyone's mind.

There aren't a lot of cameras here. Australia has long been a no-man's land after the wars took their toll on it. The only people who lived there now were either irradiated or... They were immune. Omnics weren't affected by radiation the way humans were, so, though they had little reason to stay, many of them had taken to living in the ruins where the Junker Queen, who was not overly fond of Omnics, would not let them in to her city. From here, it's almost impossible to see what's going on. There's plumes of black smoke that erupt higher into the sky with each passing moment, and the flash of explosions from within the darkness that imply some kind of firefight.

“We need eyes on the inside,” Winston says, his stare swiveling at once towards his officers as he debates his options. Eventually, his eyes stop on Gabriel. “You will take a small team into Sydney. If the fighting is still ongoing, you will assist the natives against the attack. Take Carter with you. She spent time in Australia- perhaps she will be helpful here. I will be assigning some more people to your team, as well- you wont be alone out there. Morrison, you will assign Agent Pharah to the site as well, with a squadron of Helix soldiers.”

“Yes, Sir.” Jack turns away, heading down further into the command center, which is outfitted with a number of command desks. Gabe knows that his is here somewhere, despite that he's never had to use it. As he watches Jack take to his own desk, ancient clips of the now-defunct NASA program flee through his mind. This room looks a lot like that, he thinks before suddenly coming out of his daydream to turn away and begin executing his orders.

“Liftoff, sir?” Gabriel asks as he heads out.

“Ten minutes, Chief.”

Ten minutes is more than Gabriel needs to outfit himself and get his gear ready. It's just enough time for him to kiss Jack goodbye, he thinks, wraithing behind the soldier and ghosting a kiss across the man's cheek before he turns and heads off. Jack reaches after him, but it's too late- the shade is gone- dressed in what was becoming a familiar white set of gear.

The images of the desecrated Opera Hall rang through Gabriel's mind as he boarded the ship, Jaelen in tow, and a few other privates who had been assigned to the mission. Within seconds, they were in the air aboard one of their fastest ships, at top speed, headed towards the forsaken wasteland that had become Australia.

By now, it had been long enough that the radiation wasn't deadly to new arrivals, but if you stayed there, it would be a problem. All the same, half way through the flight, each of them were injected by a medic to negate the effects of the radiation. It made them feel vaguely nauseous, but if it stopped them from dying, it was an acceptable trade off, they thought.

When finally their ship touches the ground, the dust rolls away from it in a thick red cloud. The smoke from Sydney still burns, stinging their eyes... But it's quiet. There's no sound of gunfire or blasts. Occasionally, the fires crumble some integral bond, and the small group of soldiers can hear part of a building collapse. The distant crashes sound through the city, echoing off of broken walls.

 

Eventually, bodies come into view.

 

Many of the Soldier's stop in their tracks, raising their weapons and forming a small circle to protect one another. Gabriel, without a word, breaks away from the pack, steps carrying him across the gap to the closest body. He leans over with a small sigh, kneeling beside the corpse.

“Omnics,” Gabriel said. “Natives.” Moving to stand, Jaelen soon arrives at his side.

“What happened?” She asked in a soft whisper.

“Other omnics,” Gabe replies, just as quietly. As Jay looks down, she can see that the core of the omnic at their feet has been completely ripped out. There weren't weapons that did that... This was done by hand- and human hands couldn't do that either... Unless they had mechanical limbs.

“Junkertown,” Jaelen says, a little louder now that their other soldiers have joined them. “The Queen- ain't that what she's called? Junkertown's got a queen. She ain't fond of omnics... And she's down here, somewhere.”

“I don't think she did this,” Gabriel says, looking at her.

“No, maybe not... But she might know who did. She's closer than anyone else.”

Gabriel couldn't argue with that reasoning. It was fair, and more than a few people in Junkertown had prosthetics, not unlike the one McCree had, though these were likely much less... High tech. Yet, she seldom left her junk-city, and this was seemingly unprovoked, unless she was planning on expanding her territory. About then, Gabe notices another body nearby, trapped beneath a slab of collapsed cement. This omnic is different. New. New metal and shine, more proper armor. This was not a native.

“No. She did not do this,” he says with a finality that Jaelen recognizes. He's found proof, she realizes, as she approaches where he's walked. The wraith tugs the body out of the wreckage as much as he can- part of it is still pinned, and tears away. Upon the omnic's upper left shoulder is a marking... A crown, burned insignia made with acid- the first time he's seen it. “This is a faction branding,” Gabe says as the other soldier's reach them. “This, I think, is the sign of the Queen. Marcus?” He calls to one of the other men assigned to the mission that day. “Take as many good pictures of this as you can with your tac-pac. Wire them to the ship. They'll make sure the Commander gets then. You two, stay with him. The rest of you will come with us. Our mission is to look for survivors and any sign of continuing battle.”

 

Luckily or unluckily, they found none. The battle was over before they arrived. There were no survivors, and no battle. All they found were corpses like the first few... All dead omnics. What humans there were had been brutally put down, despite the obvious mutations that likely would have killed them in time anyway. Though most of them were natives, at least a few more of the bodies bore the Queen's Crown, which is what the group began to call the marking given to those of loyalty to the Omnic forces. A few of them were taken for research and evidence.

The flight home was quiet, and Jaelen could see the man struggling with his thoughts. She sat nearby to him and nudged him. “Ain't thinking of going back into a coma, are you?”

“It'd be a lot easier than figuring this out,” he broods with a small smile.

“Something tells me you've got it,” she pried.

“Most of it. I think. These omnics are new- they've been upgraded, and marked. But, why were they using Talon disguises in the beginning? Why did this... Unknown force want to pit us, even more, against Talon, when they intended to fight Talon themselves- as we saw proof of in the last battle? I saw no sign of Talon here, at all... This was strictly a fight between the Queen's force and Natives. But why? There's still a few questions I can't answer. What's here in this... Place that she could want? We don't know enough about them, but I think we should follow your lead.”

“... Y'mean... Junkertown?”

“Yes. It stands to reason that even if the Junker Queen has nothing to do with this, she might know who did. There's no way that news of this didn't reach her. She might have something to say if we speak to her about it-”

“ _Are you insane?_ ” Jaelen suddenly interrupts. “You can't just _waltz_ into Junkertown and start asking questions! She'll have your head!”

“We don't really have much choice, Jaelen. That city was the first to know about this attack. We had to know how it went- hell, for all we know, they were attacked too. Nothing comes out of Junkertown- no news... We have no idea what's going on there, and I think we should.”

“But the Junker Queen-”

“ _May not_ be the only Queen who wants this land, Jaelen. Think about it. It's obvious.”

When the Cardinal doesn't follow, the shade elaborates. “They used Talon disguises because they wanted to conceal themselves. They wanted us to focus our fight on Talon. They wanted to disorient Talon in this way, which may have helped us defeat them during the battle. Coincidentally, all over the globe, fights start to break out between omnics and humans with ambiguous origins... Overwatch is deployed to deal with the situation, spreading our forces thin. Then, they attack Sydney, which is a ghost town to everyone except for mutated humans and Omnics. The humans are all executed and the omnics are killed during the struggle- and a few of their own are lost in the battle. What were they doing here? What did they want?...

I think they wanted a foothold. I think she came here to recruit. All of the omnics we have seen with them before were all different models- not made, but upgraded from existing, living omnics. She, whoever she is, does not like humans... And that bodes _really_ poorly for Junkertown if this new Queen decides to take over this land. Allies in strange places, Jaelen. We can talk to her.”

“No, you can't,” she says as a matter of fact. “You can't negotiate with the Junker Queen.”

“So, _what,_ then? You want us to just go and _capture_ her and then interrogate her for information? Christ, Jaelen, the connection to Junkertown was _your_ idea-”

“I ain't sayin' it aint a good idea! I'm sayin' there ain't any talkin' to her. Not like you think. She ain't... The city isn't like... There's no _government_ there, Gabi. No trials. No juries. Anarchy, you know? The only reason she stays in power is cause she's got the manpower. And she won't help you. She isn't about to make allies with anyone.”

Gabriel does not reply. He knows that Jaelen spent time in Junkertown, and he'd never met the Junker Queen himself. And yet, it may be the only way they get more answers on what happened here- or help in dealing with it. Gabriel communicates everything to Winston, and at the end of the call, sighs, gently shaking his head.

“Settle in, folks. Looks like we're spending the night out here.”

The team isn't excited, but they pull down the wall cots and some of them catch rest anyway. Gabriel moves into the back of the cabin, sitting near a window, head resting back against a metal wall, feet propped up as his arms cross over his chest. Why did this always have to happen as soon as he and Jack got a chance to be together again? It always felt like something horrible tore them apart. Now, Jack was on the other side of the world, likely still sleeping in Gabriel's bed- or else staying up at all hours, worrying about him. He pulls out his phone and tries to send a message... A simple greeting, and a promise that he's alright.

No response. Jack was either asleep or busy.

Jaelen, seeing the desolate look in Gabriel's eyes, comes to sit nearby.

“What's the plan, boss?” She asks.

“Sunrise, the rest of these soldiers are staying here. Watching the ship. You and me? We're going in to town.”

“... Junkertown. Why just us? Don't you think we need more backup?”

“It's not an aggressive mission, Jaelen.”

“You think she's going to let you in. She won't. She'll know who you are-”

“ _Everyone_ knows who I am, Jaelen. It isn't a surprise anymore.”

“You're going to need-”

“No. This is a peaceful talk.”

“I can't go.” Her voice is sharp and definitive, and Gabe's brows slowly widen and he looks at her.

“ _What?_ This is a mission, Jaelen. Of course you're going.”

“No. No, Gabi. I can't. You don't understand.”

“... I understand that you are under strict orders from the Commander, and _Me_ , to go on this mission. You're part of this organization, Jaelen, you don't get to pick and choose which missions you go on-”

“Gabi if I take one step inside those walls, I'm dead. I _can't_ go in there.”

“I'm _not_ going to let anything happen to you, Jay-”

“STOP!” She suddenly barks. There's a break in her voice that suggests this is more sentimental than he realizes. Her eyes gloss over and she glares at him. Two of the other soldier's have sat up in their cots, and Gabe dismissively waves at them to mind their own business. Gabe sweeps his feet off the bench to look at her. She's looking away, a sign that she's struggling to hold back tears. The woman sits across from him, her knees pinched together, her shoulders hunched. “I can't go back in there,” She says finally, her voice a whisper. Gabriel doesn't ask why. He knows that she spent time in Junkertown, that she fought there, and that she was a champion for the Queen, once upon a time. That they were friends. Was there more to it than that? Gabriel, now facing Jaelen, reaches out and touches her arm, and her head snaps to him. When she doesn't pull away, he wraps his fingers around her bicep and tugs her. She vacates her seat finally and comes into a natural hold. Curled against him, it's easy to imagine that he was warm once, like most humans are. It's easy to ignore the shotgun shells on his person or the claws at his fingertips.

“She was like a sister to me, Gabi,” Jaelen finally sobs, her voice a quiet whisper as she weeps into his shoulder. Gently, he pulls her into his lap and lets her cry against him, confessing her sorrows. “She taught me how to be strong. Taught me that I didn't have to take trash from anyone. Picked up the pieces of what was left of me and put them back together. Put me to use. She made me feel... Useful. Viable... Wanted. Then... When someone newer came along, someone stronger, she threw me out with her garbage. Tossed me aside like I was nothin' at all. When I tried to fight for myself, when I tried to have a say, she told me I was nothin' but a tool to her. A means to an end- nothin' but a bloody good time.” Her cries are quiet, and Gabriel sighs softly, claws gently combing through the back of her hair, smoothing it down.

“Sounds to me like she made a mistake,” Gabe says.

Jaelen says nothing, and the man holds her a little tighter. It's not fifteen minutes before he realizes that she's fallen asleep. He doesn't move for the longest time, allowing her to stay there, curled up against him while he rests his back against the wall himself and catches some shut eye.

 

In the morning, when dawn finally arrives, Gabriel carefully ghosts out from under her, letting her slide down into the seat, still passed out, and leaves the ship... Without her.

 

Australia is just as hot as it ever was, and dryer. Somehow, there are plants that live here that give the landscape a dark green backdrop below the red cliff upon which Junkertown sits. In this heat, Gabriel's white armor stands out, a beacon of bright white against the clashing bright colors of rust that make up the city's outer walls. For a moment, he appreciates the heat resistance the outfit offers. As with most of his gear, it's designed to keep him more or less comfortable inside, but now and then a wave of heat seeps into his mask or through the gaps in his gear, and he sighs with mild disgust. It's hot, and going inside looks like it's going to make him even more miserable.

But if he waited too long, it would be even hotter, and the Commander would wonder what the delay was... At least slightly. The plan? Go in, alone. Leave the troops on the ship while he did what he did best- got into places, got information, and got out. That was how Reaper had always done his best work, and he would do it again here. Jaelen was emotionally compromised, which was what he would have to tell Winston- if he really wanted to see Jaelen get put back into training for another six weeks. Instead, he had already informed the Commander of this newer, _safer_ plan... That was, of course, to turn this into a stealth mission to find out what he could. If Junkertown had any part of what happened in Sydney, Gabriel would find it.

Getting in was easy. This wasn't Talon, or any other high security company, for that matter. This was a heap of junk in the middle of an irradiated wasteland. He was sure there were people here who thought of it as home. Hell, Jaelen did, once upon a time, but to Gabriel? Just another place he didn't want to be. The moment he wraithed through the cracks in the outer wall, the scent struck him. It was metallic and smelled faintly like gasoline. Somewhere, the scent of fatty, fried food wafted through the city, and the odor of alcohol fumed out of a bar, probably many, in this place.

It wasn't hard to find his way. The Junker Queen made her citadel of _trash_ at the center of the city. The closer he got, slipping from shadow to shadow, the more he realized she had built herself a fortress. Steel and iron were welded together, bolted or crimped, holding the building higher and higher. Slowly spinning turbines seemed to mimic the feeling of a breeze and offer a constant whine of rotating, ancient metal. The sunlight spills in in regular intervals through the gaps in the propellers, illuminating peeling paint in shades of orange, yellow and teal. There is an occasional roar that sounds a lot like rushing water, and Gabriel heads closer to it, despite that he doubts he'll find her there.

Despite how refreshing it sounds, Gabe soon realizes by the rise and fall in the decibels that it isn't rushing water. It's a crowd. A loud, raucous crowd that cheers and roars. Gabriel slips through the darkness easily, coalescing at the back of the crowd, easily unseen. A sea of faces surround a circular pit. Images from history class in grade school- the roman Colosseum, wall-to wall flesh and a pit of bloodstained sand. This is no different, except that the spectators were... Junkertownies, and the walls of the arena were made of the same broken, stained metal that made up everything else. In the pit? Two fighters going toe to toe, the occasional scream of pain followed by a deafening howl from the crowd. On the far side of the ring from where Gabriel was, he could see a lightbox, with a few currently unlit spotlights... And on the east side of the ring, in the shadow of the sunrise, another, far more important looking box. Currently, occupied- but not by the queen herself. Someone else- someone who probably _had_ to be awake this early.

Someone, Gabe hoped, who could lead him back to the Queen's hiding place, as it were. The shade slipped around the back side of the crowd, wraithing more than he probably _should_ have, if only to stop the bright white of the new attire from giving him away. Finally, he reached the box, and made his move when one of the two fighters emerged victorious. At once, bodies started moving and shifting, clearing out in uneven lines like sludge trying to seep its way out of a container. He used this movement to his advantage, slipping into the Queen's private viewing area and following after whoever she'd sent- a scruffy looking, tall lean man with black hair. He was oblivious to the ghost following behind him. Gabriel had no intention of giving himself away, and he didn't, as they passed through twisting hallways, crowded, large auditoriums that didn't notice the wraith among a hundred shifting shadows, not until at long last this man lead Gabriel to something that appeared a lot like a locked vault door. It wasn't extremely large, but the shade supposed that had to do with... Either availability (that was, the inability to find a larger, more intimidating vault door) or Stability- this place looked like he should collapse at any moment, yet somehow survived the years it had without budging.

It would seem that this door was little more than one of many gateways into the Queen's fortress. Apparently, she had a number of tunnels into and out of this place, probably for security- probably all locked, as well. And this was Gabriel's easiest way in. Could he make it before this guy closed and locked the door behind him? Unlikely. Not unless the man was distracted. An overhead light was as much a distraction as Gabriel would need, reaching up suddenly out of his black mass to completely shatter the thing. The man, meanwhile, had already unlocked the entry, but jolted with a surprised yelp when the light suddenly went out with a loud crash. Gabriel, meanwhile, coalesced fully in the darkness and latched a hand completely across the man's mouth and the other about his throat, putting him down into a quiet sleep as efficiently as he was able. With the door unlocked, it was now a simple matter of turning the hatch and letting himself in.

But... What if there were guards on the other side? What if this didn't lead to the Queen like he thought it did? There were so many questions as to what laid beyond. This was meant to be a peaceful meeting. If he was going to do this, he'd have to do it without casualty... And without being seen as much as possible.

Get out, he thought, if anything starts to go wrong, just _get out._ Without any more debate, Gabriel wrapped a hand around the hatch and began to turn, letting its whining cry sound throughout the tunnel system.

 

Another tunnel, but at the far end, two guards dressed in mismatched armor made of who-knew-what. Reaper didn't waste time taking in their physical attributes any further than they mattered- both had shoddy guns and one had a knife stuffed into his belt. Any second now, one of them would turn, curious as to who had come through the door, and that would be his chance.

The wraith slid along, not allowing his feet to fully touch the floor, waiting for the moment.

Then, the moment arrived, and the first of the two guards, the one on the right, turned curiously to look down the hall. Reaper was on him before he could even make a sound, dragging him back into the dim hallway and silencing him with a well placed swing. The other, aware of the commotion, turned just in time to find a shotgun pressed up under his chin.

“ _Not a single sound,_ ” Reaper rumbled, and the man silently nodded, his chin pressing into the cold metal of the barrel beneath it. Gabe, satisfied with his obedience, dipped his head onward. “Lead me to the Queen.”

“Y-you'll never make it- She has guards-”

“Guards like _you?_ ” Gabriel asked, clicking his claws against the trigger of his gun, making the man quiver.

“M-Men bigger'n me... Stronger than-”

“ _You know who I am,_ ” Reaper hissed, and undoubtedly, the man did, but the confusion was obvious in his eyes. Why was Reaper here? What was Overwatch doing in Junkertown? “ _Do you really think that a few junker cronies are going to stop me?_ ” Gabriel asks, using the intimidation factor to his advantage. The man shook his head, saying nothing. The shade then went out of his way to remove the man's weapons, dropping them to the floor and nudging him along with the gun. So, the man lead on in silence. The castle, for what it seemed to be, never improved in quality, but the air? That changed, at least a little bit. Here, it didn't reek quite as much, and the scent of food and blood was left far below somewhere. It became clear to Gabriel that if someone didn't know the way, this place could become a nightmarish labyrinth. Perhaps that was the idea, he thought. Unfortunately, it meant that going through the vents wasn't going to be a simple thing- it wasn't going to be the easy way in as it often was.

After what felt like fifteen minutes, the finally arrived at another locked door.

“The Queen's throne is on the other side. She's got all her boys in there... They'll tear you to pieces- pieces even you can't come back from.”

“Well,” Gabriel said, “someone's already done that to me before. Didn't work then, either.” Referring to SEP. Well, it felt like being torn apart, anyway. This guy didn't need to know the real details. Keeping the gun pressed to his back, Gabriel dipped his head at the door. “Go on.”

Slowly, the guard reached out, wrapping a hand around the vault door and giving it a slow, deliberate turn, as if to make sure that everyone within had plenty of time to become alert. Gabriel didn't care, either, and shoved him through the gap the second it was open, forcing the man onto the floor.

There was a brief murmur and the shifting of clothing and armor as Gabe's eyes finally settle upon the room. It's large and domed, like it might have once been an observatory of some kind. The top of it has been lodged open and filled with glass, making a skylight that runs the entire length of the room, from the back to the front, where a throne made entirely of chromed, polished metal sits, twisting upwards and outwards. In the seat, a cushion made from ancient fabric sits, fairly well worn... Currently unoccupied. The morning sun spills in through small square windows cut into the dome on both sides of the ceiling, creating bars of light that cross over a central walkway that leads up a few short steps to the empty throne.

“What the hell is going on here?!” Shouts someone across the room, one of the guards who approaches as Gabriel steps to the side of his guide, gun still held at the ready. Another in the opposite hand, ready to move the second it needs to. “Why in the hell are _you_ here?” There is a sense of familiarity and disdain in the mans voice- he, like everyone else nowadays, knows who Reaper is, and who he works for.

“I'm here to talk to your _Queen_ ,” Gabriel growls.

“Well that just ain't gonna happen. She ain't here- and I think we'd be better off just-”

“Careful, _Guard Captain_ ,” Gabe says, guessing at the man's title, and he quiets. Gabe taps the gun against the back of the head of the man on the floor beside him. “I can wait for her.”

“Well I ain't about to sit here and let you wait! This place isn't for _your_ kind, and _you_ sure as hell _ain't_ welcome here.” He begins to raise his weapon- Gabriel cringes. He wanted this to be as clean as possible. This wasn't a violent meeting, he reminds himself.

 

“Calm yourself, Hector.”

Another voice reveals itself, striding in through the main entrance to the room- which was to say, the one larger than the one Gabe had arrived through- larger than any of the other smaller, vaulted doors. She's tall, and her voice, though it has the potential to be soft, is hard edged with disappointment. “Let the ghost speak for a minute will you?” She steps across the floor, entering the light of one of the beams, her figure coming into view. A tall mohawk, currently dyed bright red, likely to match the blood she's covered in. It occurs to Gabriel suddenly that the Queen wasn't sleeping, but rather that the reason she wasn't in her private viewing box was because she was in the ring herself, something he overlooked from his place high above. She was in the process of stripping away bloody armor, leaving it scattered all over the floor as she made her way towards her throne. In one hand she clasped an impossibly large, bloody war axe, still dripping. She made no move to get herself cleaned up, instead, pulling a small pistol from her hip as she reached the stairs, back to them, before slowly, almost casually turning.

“But first things first-”

 

_BANG._

 

The sound of the shot echoed through the room, making everyone jump. Even Gabriel had exploded into a black cloud the second she turned, preparing himself for the shot... But it wasn't for him, he discovered... Rather, the guard who had lead him here, who now oozed lifelessly from a hole she had just put in his head. “Lets get somethin' straight, _Reaper,_ ” She started, looking at him as she reached the top of the stairs and turned to face him. He reformed, guns at his sides. Everyone's eyes were on one of three things- Reaper, the Queen, or the new corpse on the floor. “I don't know why yer here, and I don't much care. I know that that-” a blood-tainted finger pointed in the direction of the body as she slid away her gun, “That asshole lead you in here. I don't know how and why, but I know sure as hell that I don't locks and guards on these doors to greet intruders as they try to walk in. I'm goin' to make this real quick and easy for us- christ. Earl? Where's Earl? Someone get this fuckin' stye cleaned up.” All at once, four people who were clearly not guards emerged, some collecting her armor, and two others dragging out the leaking body. Shortly, they returned, mopping up the blood while the Queen spoke, handing her bloodied axe off to someone as she did. She leaned forward, elbows on her knees.

“Word on the screens these days is that you've _quit_ the mercenary business. Ain't that right? Got yourself a nice little station with the old... _Heh, gang of heroes._ ” She rolls her eyes, as if the idea of Reaper being a hero of any kind is ridiculous. “Well there ain't no heroes here, and there ain't ever gonna be. You see, this here? This is my town. My domain. Everythin' the light touches- you get me, _Simba?_ Now as I said, I don't care why you're here- but I don't exactly _want_ to go startin' a fight with your little peace corps. So how about you just turn your little leather-daddy ass around, and strut your shadow shit back out of here, eh? Sounds like a good deal to me- hey boys?”

They laugh, as if on command.

“That's not going to happen,” Gabriel growls finally. “How about you tell me what I want to know, and then I'll leave.”

“Get out, or there's going to be trouble, Reaper. I ain't sayin' it again.”

 

Gabriel growls as she tries to command him, and steps forward, a gun raising marginally as if in defense, which triggers the guards around him into a defensive pose, many of them raising their weapons, others rushing in between the wraith and the Queen herself. She seemed entirely unfazed by the display and sighs with a small shake of her head.

 

“Kill him, then.”

 

All at once, the room is loud. There's the sound of gunshots and the obvious waver of disturbed air as Gabriel is forced to fight. His body evaporates just to reappear somewhere else, throwing guards into one another, dodging shots aimed at his head and chest, narrowly avoiding them. But... Eventually, the men start to get back up. The radiation seems to have made a lot of them tough, though, and he can see old scars on a lot of them. Some of them don't even have guns, but rather, rudimentary hooks and blades where their hands used to be, now replaced with sharpened shrapnel that seeks to cut and gouge into any part of Reaper they can reach. Undoubtedly, this kind of combat was exactly what the Queen lived for. She enjoyed this, as was obvious by the way she watched from her throne as though this was nothing more than the first act of a show.

And this was exactly what she wanted. Gabriel was out of options, and if he wanted to live, people were going to have to die. This was never part of the plan, but then, neither was Owellton, and this, it seemed, was shaping up to be a lot similar. If he wanted to talk with the Queen,he had to show her that he meant business... And if he somehow got out of here, it would not only look bad for him, and for Overwatch, but it would be a mission failure. That... Could not be allowed, considering how much convincing it took for him to Winston, to let Gabriel go in alone.

Without another moment's hesitation, the shade stopped evading, and started using their attacks against them. When one of the men with two hook-like weapons for both hands came for him, he turned, using the man's momentum and forcing him face to face with one of the other attackers, fists buried deep somewhere they shouldn't be. The first blood spilled came from the man's mouth, spewed out with the impact. Gabriel twisted the man then, peeling him away and throwing him into the others. He was immediately set on by three others, and his claws finally came into use. First he lashed out at the throat of one before burying the steel toe of one boot right into a kneecap, capping it and forcing it to bend backwards. The man, now screaming, fell away. And a gun materialized effortlessly into one of the wraith's hands. At once, his weapons were louder than anyone else's in the room as he spun, shooting at everyone who moved. Bit by bit, however, Gabriel felt a shift... His body, despite being half drained from the stealthy trek up to this point, now fed... It fed, without him trying to. It fed, despite the victims still breathing. Slowly, he saw them begin to go weak as they fought him, more so than the usual wear and tear. Gabriel watched as he fought, as the black smoke that wafted off of him seeped into each of them, exploiting the wounds he had inflicted on them and leeched back into him, making him stronger, and faster. Was this the evolution Angela had spoken of?

The more his enemies bled, the more they fell, the stronger he became. Without realizing it at first, Reaper began to _enjoy_ this, a smile finding its way onto his lips beneath the mask. Chestnut eyes were slowly replaced, shot by shot, with a burning, glowing, red fire that the Queen herself could not ignore. Gabriel _became_ the animal he was known for, slashing, shooting, hissing into his victims. The sound of broken bone and spilling blood was something so familiar to him, something old, but satisfying. And these men, the more he fought, the more he could almost _smell_ the fear beginning to roll off of them. Yet still, they fought, afraid still of their Mistress, who watched on, wide-eyed and enthused. Now and again, Gabriel could hear her laugh, and his head twisted towards her, taken aback by how quickly, how easily and willingly she threw away their lives for her own benefit.

 _She had treated Jaelen like this,_ Gabriel thought, which forced a sudden, harsh, bestial growl out of the man as he twisted, breaking the neck of a man in front of him and throwing his corpse to the foot of the stairs. His Wight armor, now bathed in blood, tainted his body smoking a thick, black fume s his eyes primed upon the queen, his hatred almost palpable.

He wanted to say anything, or _do_ something to put her in her place...

 

But, the last time he had sought his own retribution, things had gone _terribly_ bad. He could not afford that mistake here, despite how much he desired it. Instead, he kept his eyes locked upon her, but his arms moved- by now, all _four_ of them, each with it's own gun, putting down anyone who dared to get close to him. This made the show significantly less fun for her- and _costly._ She would still have to replace those guards, one way or another, and he was willing to bet that finding loyal crones in this place was about as easy as finding clean water.

 

Slowly, the smile faded from her features, and she growled, shoving herself up from her seat. Someone rushed in from a door nearby, carrying her axe, as if to offer it to her, but she raised her hand to stop them.

 

“ _Very well, you miserable wretch._ I'll hear what you fucking have to say, but you had better make it quick.” Or else what? Reaper knew she had not quite thought that far ahead. If this many of her men could not stop him, she would have to resort to even tougher soldiers, who likely costed more. She simply didn't have the time or desire to spend coin on it. Feigning a smile, she slowly sighs and sits. The remaining of her guards- a solid ten or so, not including the eight bodies on the floor, back off, but they're winded and some of them, injured. Others are out of ammo, and only three of the ones that are left are large enough to withstand a whole lot more of Reaper's attacks- bruisers, of course. They were sturdy, but slow... If Reaper was careful, he could likely kill them, too, leaving her with no one. “I suppose I have to say I'm impressed! I thought that prison sentence of yours was some kind of brainwashin' plan to make you a good ole' golden-boy again.”

Gabriel had never been such a thing, and anyone who actually knew him knew that. Hell, the UN knew that, when they promoted Jack to First Strike Commander, didn't they? _Wasn't that the exact reason?_ Still the Junker Queen continued. “Good to see that they didn't, eh? Or else I wouldn't be sitting here listening to your rabble. What is it then? Why the hell're you here?”

“I was sent here for information,” Reaper growls bluntly. “About the attack on Sydney. Did you have any part in that? Did you know anything about it?”

“Why in hells would I give a fuck about Sydney? That place ain't nothin' but a ghost town and lost dishwashers.” Clearly, that was meant as a derogatory term for Omnics.

“You need to tell me everything you know about it.”

“Oh, do I? And why's that?”

“Because if you don't, Junkertown could be next on the hitlist,” he says with an air of formality. Her eyes narrow at him and her lips turn into a deep frown.

“There ain't anythin' here that anyone with any common sense would want. I saw who attacked Sydney. I saw what happened there. It wasn't us, and it wasn't ever gonna be.”

“I _need_ to know what you saw. This city was the first to see the attack. You know more than anyone else.”

“Ey? Why don't you go and ask the survivors, huh? I'm sure there's someone holed up in that shitbucket- a few tin cans perhaps?”

“There were no survivors. Not even omnics. Tell me what you know.” This bit of information stills the Queen into mildly shocked quiet. As much as she didn't want to cooperate, she knew that this position was a beneficial one for her. She didn't become the Junker Queen by collecting _junk._ She had money. More money than anyone else here, and she hadn't stolen it. Manipulated her way into it, perhaps, but it was still _hers._ She knew a good gamble when she saw one... And there was still something she needed done. Something that her other junkers wouldn't do, mostly because it was too much of a drive.

“I know that there's somethin' I need,” she replies finally, sharply. “I'll cut you a deal, boogeyman.”

“ _What deal?_ ” Reaper hisses.

“Y'see a long while back, one of our own did us wrong. Stole a bunch of our coin- and some expensive things. Pawned them for coin maybe, who knows. He's done a lot of shit needs accountin' for.”

“Why do _I_ care about that?” Gabriel asks.

“Cause you've met him.”

“What?”

“Heh, yeah! You've met him. Small world, ain't it? You're gonna find him and bring him back to me.”

“I don't do bounty work, remember?”

“This ain't a bounty, now is it? You're just doin' me a favor. Won't take you long, I imagine. He's just far enough to be out of our reach, but not yours. I bet you got a fancy ship out there somewhere, dontcha? Bet it could get you there and back in a few hours.”

Gabriel growled. He didn't like this. He didn't like that he was being forced to do work for some trash-Queen while she sat on her throne, holding information he needed. But, this was the quickest way to get this done, wasn't it?

 

“Who's the mark?” Gabriel finally asked, fingers curling.

 

“What 'is real name is, only a few people know. 'Round here? They call him _Junkrat_.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, guys!
> 
> For those of you who don't read my Tumblr or are on my discord, I made an update a couple days ago about Chapter Releases:
> 
> "Hey guys, I just wanted to drop a line here. In the effort of total transparency, I wanted to let you know that chapters MAY end up being delayed in the next few weeks or months. Some of you may know, but the vast majority are unaware that for the last month or so, I've been dealing with some exhausting health issues. I don't want to get into details beyond to say that it's related to my asthma. Because of it, I've felt extremely tired and more or less incapable of doing a lot of the things I really enjoy doing- which includes writing. I'm not putting a hold on Forsaken, or anything, it's just that I refuse to force myself to write when I really don't feel upto it. I feel like that would be a detriment to the story, and it wouldn't be fair to you or the story I intend to tell. This week's chapter is still coming, because it's already written, but the next? I haven't had the strength or willpower to even start on that one yet, so it may be delayed, but when I do get the energy to write, I will continue doing so."
> 
> I hope you guys understand! I will still try to keep releases frequent, as close to the same schedule as I can manage, but my health comes first. 
> 
> Thanks, guys! Your enjoyment and feedback are what motivate me to keep writing.


	8. Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, guys! I am still having significant health issues, along with some other majorly disrupting life events that made it hard for me to get a chapter out this month, so this chapter is a little bit longer than usual, to try and make up for it. I hope you enjoy it!

Gabriel didn't like any of this. He knew that deals like this one weren't part of Overwatch's allowable protocols, and yet, it was the easiest way to get the information he needed. That didn't mean that Jack was going to favor it any easier. No doubt, he would probably get an earful from the man for this.

But right now, Gabriel didn't have time to think about the possible downsides of this decision. It had a prize at the end of the rabbit hole that he, and by extension, Overwatch, needed. No one wanted a war with Junkertown, no matter how short-lived it would be. This wasn't part of the plan, and Jackie depended on Gabriel's plans to work out- he always had, despite that _most_ of the time, those plans ended up getting improvised.

Gabe reminded himself that Jack had his own part in this- that was, working with his own people to find out what was going down, or had gone down, in Sydney. They were likely there now, doing a deeper search. He hoped in some way that this would yield enough fruit to be redeeming. As for Junkrat? Why? Why did he matter so much to the Junker Queen? What had he done? Or, was it just some small crime that the bitch was sending Reaper on to see how useful he could be?

“You're coming with me this time,” Gabe was saying as he boarded the ship once more. By this time, Jaelen was awake. She was, for once, quiet. She had put her sass on the shelf in favor of the gratitude she felt for him not forcing her to go along with him. But now?

“Where?” She asked.

“Owellton.”

It had been a few months since anyone from Overwatch had been there, and surely, Jaelen had been the last to visit the broken down, half-flesh, half machine fight club buried somewhere below sea level, between Fiji, New Zealand, and Australia.

“W-...Why?” She stammered curiously.

“We're... Fetching someone for her.”

“What? Oh.. Oh no,” the woman started. “Gabi, the only guys in Owellton she'd want are all exiles.”

“I'm _aware_ of that.”

“They were exiled for a _reason_ , don't you think?!”

“I am _aware_ of that too, Carter. Mind your duty.” Using her last name seemed to remind her that this was a mission, not another conversation in the training room.

“Sorry, Chief,” She uttered back, sighing. “Who, then, and why?”

“I don't know why she wants him. I know that we're delivering him because if we do, she has information on the attack in Sydney that she's willing to share.”

“... Him?”

“... Are not most exiles from Junkertown _men?_ ” Gabe asks, and the woman frowns.

“First of all, that's sexist. Second of all, yes, they are, but I can only think of a _couple_ all the way out in Owellton that she hates enough to send _us_ after them.”

“She called him Junkrat.”

“ _Fuckin' fuck. Christ in hell. Jamison fuckin' Fawkes._ ”

“...What was that, Agent?” Gabriel asks, turning finally to face her after putting in the last of the information into the ship's computer mapping system. The ship is in the air in seconds as the pilots take in the new information and move into action.

“His name,” Jay growled. “His name is Jamison Fawkes.”

“... Fascinating,” Gabe utters sarcastically.

“No, Gab- I, uh. I mean. _Chief,_ you don't understand. He ain't just some exile. She's pretty accepting of a lot of human folks. You gotta do some real shit to get kicked out, and believe me, he did.”

“What do you know about the mark?” Gabe asked.

“D'you ever wonder why Junkertown is _Junkertown,_ Chief?”

“The war-”

“The war did a lot of damage, it's true. It left a lot of wreckage behind. A lot of damaged people... And he's one of them, too. But I'm sayin', why is it that, when all the other countries of the world have repaired themselves from the fights, Australia hasn't? The ground wasn't even livable for the first several years. When people finally crawled out of their caves, they did it with gas masks, ey? They did it with cancer too, some of them, and hacked off limbs, shoddy replacements out of sticks and car parts. They emerged with anything else they could find underground. The fact of the matter is, the folks in Junkertown didn't leave, not only because this is their home, but because they found somethin' underground that could make their lives over... Something they could use to restart. Its why Junkertown exists. Junkrat is why it's still _Junkertown,_ and nothin' _more_.”

“...Seeds of grass? What is it, Carter? Get to the point.”

“Fuel cells, Chief. Fuel cells with enough power in 'em to power three massive air purification factories- er, purification plants, yanno? They also worked to produce energy as they ran- so, you know. Win-win, right? The Queen gets to be the hero, bringin' clean air back to everyone, and energy for people to rebuild. But, they needed to be built from the ground up, and they needed a jump-start, like jumpin' an old fashioned car. You know, like the kind you had when you were a kid?”

“I remember, Jaelen. Stop reminding me of my age. Anyway, what happened to them?”

“ _Junkrat_ happened. He stole them- there were only three, but he stole them, anyway. He sold two of them, god really knows what for, he sure as hell didn't use them to repair his leg or his arm-”

“He has prosthetics, then?”

“Hell, you've met him, Chief.”

“So she said, too. Why is it that she didn't mention the cells? The Queen only said he stole a lot of coin-”

“D'you really think she'd want someone like any one of us to know that her people, once upon a time, had that kind of power? Hell no. She wants Junkrat so that she can interrogate him about what he did with them. 'Sides. She didn't necessarily need _three_ purification plants. Coulda sold the last to fix up her... _Palace_ or somethin'. Anyway, as I said, he didn't fix his arm or leg, didn't buy a house, didn't... Appear to do anything with them. That's why he lives out in Owellton now. Close enough to home sweet home that he can still see the hazy, dead sky sometimes, but far enough away that she can't chase him down into his rat hole. He's the announcer. You know- the man who introduced you in Owellton before?”

“ _The ring announcer?_ ” Gabriel asks in disbelief. He strains his memory back to that night- the man with his peg leg, mechanical forearm, annoying attitude, grin too wide to be natural for most people, the crazy eyes, the hair that seemed perpetually on fire at its very tips.

“That's him. Findin' him won't be a problem. It's getting him to come along.”

“Why? You don't think I could handle him?”

“ _I think_ that I know him better'n you do. He's got a way with bombs, Chief. And traps... And explody things. He's also got a bodyguard.”

“I can handle a bodyguard, if it's anything like the Queen's guards,”

“But he a-”

“Carter... Get some rest. We'll see what we're dealing with when we get there.”

The woman gave him a stern look and sighed. “Suit yourself. I slept the entire time you were gone.” She moved away then to one of the windows, content to look out over the dead landscape as the ship slowly picked up speed towards Owellton, and the two rode in quiet.

Jaelen could have told Gabriel a lot more about what was awaiting them in Owellton, if this was _actually_ what they were doing, but Gabriel was being stubborn. He'd likely say that he had everything under control, or that he had come this far just fine... But Jaelen knew better. He'd see, she thought with a small smirk. He'd _see_ and understand once they got there.

 

Owellton hadn't changed at all. The ship, unable to go down into the water and too large to take the road, dropped the two at the closest entrance to the tunnel, which happened to be a sort of harbor out in the water attached only barely with sturdy tubing that went underground from the surface, a floating collection of... Garbage that had been put to use, more or less. Wooden docks with foam on the underside attached with chains and ropes, boats docked at harbor, the entire place held in place with shards of wreckage and wrought metal somehow still holding up against the elements. It had been there long enough now to form the most bizarre coral reef that Gabriel had ever seen. As they slipped into the tunnels, high grade glass and plastic revealed small glimpses of a forest of I-beam trees, half melted, twisted and wrenched, crowded over with red and orange corals, schools of blue and yellow fish: beneath the waves, a stunning display of the entire chromatic prism, far more breathtaking than anything above the waves. That anything had survived in these waters at all was incredible, but Gabe had no doubts that there were at least a few things in these waters scarier than _sharks._ Whatever had managed to live here deserved to be the top of the food chain.

That should have warned him about some of the denizens of Junkertown, too, but Gabriel had already survived many of them.

Perhaps this world should have warned them about _him._

 

When they spoke to anyone, they did not use their real names, not even though he was obviously recognized. Not even the bike renter, who allowed the two a means to get down into the tunnels quickly.

“Cardinal. That's the only name you need. Bikes will be back by tonight.”

“Needs _two_ names, two _bikes,_ see...” The vendor was pushy, but not unrealistic. What was Gabriel going to tell him? He hadn't decided on a callsign yet. He knew what the UN wanted him to choose... And though he eventually relented, the word felt bitter on his tongue.

“ _Wraith,_ ” Reaper growled.

Satisfied with the names, Jaelen offered up a card to pay for the bikes- she'd be reimbursed, of course, but later, long after the mission was done.

“Y'know in hindsight, I'm real glad they didn't fuckin' try to call me Robin,” she said idly, trying to ease his mood as they made towards their rented bike. “God, what a _terrible_ name for a _side kick_.”

Despite his soured mood, the jest made Gabriel snort with an entirely uncharacteristic chuckle.

“You watched those old shows?” he asked.

“ _Christ no,_ ” She scoffed back at him, glancing at him through her red mask, “But I bet you _did_.” He couldn't even argue. She was right. Gabe loved all those shows when he was a kid. He'd always like the stories older than he was. It made him smirk beneath his own mask, and he saw her mirror it despite that she couldn't possibly see his, yet she still knew it was there. “You ever ridden one of these before?” She asked, and Gabriel shrugged.

“Not for a while, but everything's automated these days.”

“If you crash, I ain't carryin' your ass back to the entrance,” She warned, and he scoffed, sliding a leg over one of the two motorcycles they had arrived at.

Like all vehicles, these bikes had been upgraded with wheels that kept the craft off the ground as it moved, and as soon as the engines came on, the rings around the new tires lit up in bright green. An array of controls opened onto the console before him, and Gabe was able to navigate it with surprising ease. The bike had obviously been to Owellton countless times before, it knew the way well without him even needing to steer it. His feet slid into small cradles at the bottom of the craft and he tucked the coat beneath his ass to prevent it from flapping annoyingly as they moved. When Jaelen nodded at him that she was ready, he hit an initiation on his own bike, and pulled away. She followed after seconds behind, slightly off to the side. The front of the bikes meanwhile built tall light shields in front and to the sides of them, a sort of protection that had come to replace windshields in some smaller crafts, in many cases even removing the need for helmets- though crashes on automated vehicles were almost unheard of these days- it was only when some _maniac_ decided to pilot a vessel _manually_ that accidents happened- and these, by the look of them, had had that capability removed for _many_ years prior to now.

It only took a few minutes to reach the small town, and Gabriel knew they had arrived minutes before they reached the turn off by smell alone. As usual, there was a metallic taste to the air, the stench of wet mud and salt. The flashing lights up ahead gave away the turn, and the two pulled in.

As always before, Owellton was a dark place beneath the ground, hundreds of feet below the surface of the water, an undersea cave that had long since been discovered, hallowed out, and used for these illicit purposes. Broken down shoddy buildings made of mud and metal debris, sodden wood and dead coral were havens for drug dealers, body merchants and bounty hunters. A familiar old bar big enough to house the entire town sat where it always did off to the side, and Gabriel knew that the fight club was just beneath it. Inwardly, he couldn't help but wonder how long it had taken them to clean the blood off of the walls where he had sprayed it last year during a frenzy.

It made a lot of sense to Gabriel why Jesse would have spent some time here. As he looked at it, he realized that this was probably one of twelve bars the cowboy visited after the initial explosion all those years ago.

It made sense why Jaelen would come here, too.

 

As they parked their rides, he glanced over her, and could see the look of contempt that had come over her features. She was eager to get this over with.

Saying nothing, the two entered into the bar, as as expected, it only took a few seconds, a few heavy footsteps before the entire area quieted and looked at them.

_At him._

New clothes, new name, but no one was fooled. Everyone here knew who he was. Reaper wasn't the kind of guy any of these people wanted to be in the same room with. Gabriel didn't really want to be in the room with them either, but he knew that Junkrat was here.

Jaelen approached the bar, leaving Gabe by the bar, and she slammed down her card on the counter. As usual, it was an Overwatch card, giving away who they were with without needing to say a word. “I'll take a brandy- Reaper?” She asked, glancing back at him. She refused to call him Wraith. She knew that using his famous moniker would get them the response they needed. It was probably better if Gabriel didn't say anything here, so he merely shook his head, and moved forward. As he strode, he allowed just a little more smoke out of his coat than he normally would have, causing anyone- indeed, anyone- in his path, to rampantly move, sliding out of their seats or dragging their chairs off to the side. He didn't want anything to drink. He didn't want to take off his mask.

After her drink was wordlessly handed over, she met the tenders's hard, omnic stare, and spoke levelly.

“We've gotta see the Rat. You give us away, and there'll be hell to pay. You understand? We'll sink this _whole_ place.”

After a small, calculating hum, the omnic canted his head.

“Will I need a clean up crew? Should I empty them out?”

“That depends on the Rat doesn't it? The rest of you?” She turned to everyone else in the bar who were raptly staring on with attention. “Get out, if you don't want any part of this... And you don't, I promise you.”

Almost at once, the sound of shuffling wood and metal could be heard along with the rustle of clothing as people exited in a hustled, but not rushing push towards the door. No one wanted to be here for whatever might happen.

The two turned away from the bar, Jaelen with drink in hand, heading downstairs to the bar. The roar of a familiar crowd broke into their ears from the stairwell, and in this relative darkness, no one saw them. The only lights were red and yellow, flickering occasionally. There was already a fight ongoing, to no surprise. Paper money and small sacks of coin were raised in many hands trying to make bets on the next outcome.

No one noticed the two even as they reached the bottom of the stairs. Around the room, those who weren't crowded around the lit ring, people sat in chairs or on sofas win drinks, some with people on their arms. Others, without arms entirely.

One of whom, with his peg leg and boot propped up on a turned over, dented can, leaning back against a sorry piece of leather furniture, a cigarette of some variety in his mouth, one arm crossed over his chest, the other, propping up the smoke at the end of his prosthetic lower arm. Gabriel could hear him yammering even now, seemingly to no one in particular, barely making sense, barely even acknowledging the fight that was currently ongoing.

He did finally look up when the two shadows blocked his view upon their arrival, casting a shadow over his form. Wide eyes squinted at first, as his pupils struggled to adjust to the change in the light. At first, he seemed elated, excited by who he saw there.

“Well hell! If it ain't our old-” His words trailed off right as his eyes landed on the looming figure who had arrived just beside her. The Reaper's iconic mask was enough to subdue him into silence, his smile pulling to a small, shallow frown.

It seemed for a long moment like no one was going to speak, and only when Junkrat finally got too nervous did he say something.

“You two ain't got anythin' to say, ey? There ain't any work for ya here no more- not wit' him in tow, roight?” As if he was asking a question, like it was Jaelen's permission that might give him the right to make that decision.

“I'm not here for work, _ey,_ ” She mocked back at him. “I'm here to have a talk-”

Both were lies. They were here for work, but not the kind he was offering, and Gabriel was not interested in talking to him. Couldn't they just grab him and go? His head slowly turned towards her, and she looked back at him, seeming to catch the understanding. “We ain't talkin' here, Jamison. Let's move.”

“Loike hell I'm goin' anywhere with him!? You daft? I'm crazy- not stupid, yanno?” he laughed nervously shortly there after, and as much as Jaelen wanted to argue, she couldn't. She'd met Jamison Fawkes years ago. She'd known him, and though she knew he was, as he'd said, crazy, he _wasn't_ in fact, stupid. He was a crafty, dangerous pain in the ass. The easiest way to do this would be to convince him that he wanted to go with them. The woman felt her hands tighten, trying not to make fists. Patience was _not_ her strong suit. Soon, she felt a heavy, clawed hand on her shoulder, and she glanced to it to see that Gabriel had moved after the small reassurance. That hand let go of her and wrapped around the top bar of a chair nearby, dragging it over the the sound of grating metal against the uneven flooring until it sat in front of Junkrat. All the while, the lounging amputee stared at them, unsure of what was going on.

“ _We can talk to him right here,_ ” Gabriel rumbled deeply, reaching up finally towards his mask, which seemed to make Jamison nervous- at least... Until he realized what was underneath.

“Oh, hey- uh. Wow- I guess we all thought you was just all skeletal under there an whatnot, ey? Some people said you didn' have a face-”

“ _Don't get out much, do you?_ ” It was weird to see Reaper's voice coming out of Gabriel's lips... Rough and grizzled, smokey. He was doing this for show. Jaelen made a point to watch and learn. “I've been all over the news.”

“Oi, I caught wind of that- we don't got no screen reception down here. Don't see much of that unless I touch home once in a blue moon. Why y'here?” It seemed that seeing Reaper without the mask was more of an oddity, a curiosity to Junkrat that made it easier for him to ignore his fear- along with the fact that they didn't have to go anywhere.

“The _Queen_ has something Overwatch wants.”

“Yeah? She's got somethin' everyone wants-” He snorted with lewd laughter, and Jaelen felt her stomach turn grossly. Gabriel seemed not to notice.

“The word is that you can get us in. That you've done it before.”

“I said I ain't stupid. Can't ya just...” The man flicked his half-gone cigarette away in the process of wiggling his fingers in a sort of fluid motion, “ _Snake_ yer way in, ey? Ain't it whatcha good at? Why y'need me?”

“I'm _limited_ in what I can do. This requires more people, and besides, you're being paid.”

 _Paid?_ What the hell was Gabriel talking about? Jamison's eyes widened and his lips crumpled into a deep, downward frown. In what seemed like anger, he kicked the can his legs were on over and sat upright.

“ _Talk,_ ” He demanded.

“I can't do it here. There might be loyalists-”

“Ain't _no one_ here loyal to the Queen, I can tell ya that.”

“Fine... We need to bring the Queen in for questioning. Her throne will be vacant during that time. Free for the taking.”

“Y'think I want her fuckin' throne, ey?”

“I think that a throne is a hell of a lot nicer than a beaten down sofa from the eighties in an underground rot-pocket under the sea. Fresh air, sunlight, coin... Lots of coin.” Gabriel hoped that one of these things would get through to the Rat, and eventually, one of them did, but Jamison didn't care about fresh air _or_ sunlight. It was the coin he wanted.

“ _How much?_ ”

“I can't say,” Reaper growled. “I have no idea. _You'd have to come see for yourself.”_

Junkrat scrunched his features again, and finally moved to stand.

“ROADIE,” he bellowed, and all of a sudden, a dark, over-sized figure moved to stand from the corner nearby. Gabriel had honestly thought that this man was just another piece of furniture until he saw the movement. The man was massive, easily dwarfing Gabriel- and most of the guards in the Queen's chamber. The Reaper's mask came back on, and Jaelen nudged him slightly with a very faint murmur.

_Told you._

He said nothing to the unspoken gesture, and Junkrat turned away.

“You'll follow us,” he uttered, moving off towards the stairs with a characteristic limp to his step. And, they did. This was the best way to get Jamison out of here without hurting anyone else in the process.

But it would have to be fast. This bodyguard, who Gabriel had never seen before, was clearly bigger than he had ever expected. While his guns would end a person in one or two shots almost every time, he could tell just by _looking_ that it would take more than two shots to take _this_ monolithic man down. He couldn't help but wonder if the gas mask the bouncer wore was functional, or purely for display. It didn't matter, Gabriel realized, because the Hog was going to be an obstacle to overcome either way.

They left the bar, and the second they'd exited, everything seemed to go back to normal. The two followed after the pair of junkers. He could overhear Jamison telling the bodyguard- who was named Mako, apparently, that he was instructed to _deal_ with them if they tried anything.

Gabriel had already decided that they weren't going to ever make it to wherever they were going. Jaelen had much decided the same without needing to be told. It was time to make their move whenever they rounded a corner into an alleyway. Reaper could immediately see that this alleyway was... Very much _theirs._ There wasn't anything in the way of riches, but lines of electric lights that bridged across the gap between buildings, and something like an old trailer at the back of it, which clearly belonged to Jamison by the sheer number of antique tires sitting out front that had been installed with outward facing spikes and the centers of them were hollow, for the moment.

Gabriel makes his move before they reach the comparatively ancient vehicle up ahead. Ghosting forward, a gun makes its way into his hand, poised at the back of Mako's head, which he assumes to be the man's only vulnerable spot- hell, even his crotch is guarded by what looks like an old car grill.

“That's far enough,” Reaper rumbles, and Jaelen already has her pistol in hand. The two turn at the sound of the weapons coming out, but Jamison was already keen on the plan. There's something in his hand, small, round, clearly a bomb of some kind.

“Let's not blow this out of proportions, mates,” he warns, but Gabriel's run out of patience, finally.

“You have to come with us.”

“ _I'm crazy, not stupid,_ ” the joker repeated, this time more aggressively.

 

The mayhem that followed was so loud that even those down in the bar's fight club could hear it. In a matter of seconds, Jamison had thrown his satchel bomb and the two agents launched themselves backwards, ducking behind the entrance to the alley as it explodes, throwing dust in all directions and causing the lights overhead to sway, and a couple of them to snap.

Gabe can hear Junkrat barking at Roadhog to help, and the second he rounds the corner to confront the two, there is suddenly the sound of a chain, and something large, made of metal that flings his way out of the dust and abruptly buries itself into his upper shoulder. A howl of rage and pain tears of out him, and behind him in the alleyway, Jaelen open fires on the retreating Junkrat, who slams the trailer door behind him. She realizes that shooting anything else in this vicinity is a terrible idea. Gabriel thins into a fine mist at once, trying to minimize any more damage caused by the massive hook, and escapes into a nearby building, seeking a new plan of attack against the wall that is Mako. The second that Reaper's off the hook, Hog turns on Jaelen, who has taken to trying to get around him to get into the trailer that Junkrat is hiding in. She's too close now to shoot at, or catch with the hook, so he swings, but he misses. The woman is smaller and faster than Hog likely _ever_ has been, and Gabriel can hear the man growl with rage behind that beastly looking pig mask.

Gabriel emerges again, this time aiming another shot at hog's head, no intention of pulling the trigger, and yet, when he does, Jamison suddenly emerges from the trailer, arms full- _christ, was that dynamite?_ Both Agent's eyes pop, and Roadhog makes a small shake of his head.

“DUCK!” Junkrat roars, and the Hog obeys at once. Hilariously, so do Reaper and Jaelen, so the stick he throws misses entirely, lit and smoking, skidding to the end of the alley before suddenly exploding. Once more, Roadhog turns on Reaper, catching his arm only to have him twist away, back into the building beside him, which seems, perhaps luckily for the inhabitants, empty. Losing his nerve, the giant man turns aside and tears into the side of the house with a single shot from his scrap gun, which Gabriel narrowly avoids, spinning aside. The damage it causes the wall is enough that it only takes two of Mako's kicks before he erupts into the house, and Gabe is forced to turn away once more. Now, the beast of a man steps through the gap he's made, his boots crunching down any extra shrapnel in his way, and he faces down Gabriel inside the room. It's dark within, but the white armor he wears makes him an easily spotted ghost in the dark. At once, the shoot out begins. Gabriel's shots almost seem to bounce off of what armor the bodyguard wears, and what does manage to scrape through to his flesh is easily absorbed by the muscle beneath the fat. Unless Gabriel can get _really_ close, and unless he intends to actually kill him, which wasn't part of the plan, Gabe's guns aren't going to do any good here.

Outside, Jaelen has reached the trailer door. She can hear the madman inside doing something, but she has no idea what, and she knows it can't be good. Kicking at the door does no good, and for all she knows, the door might be rigged if she tries to shoot it open- she's not putting anything past Junkrat, who just tried to blow them all up. The only other way in that she can see? A window, rather thick looking... Too high up for her to reach easily. Getting creative, her eyes scan upwards, landing on the electrical lights overhead, strung up as they were. Her eyes land on some of the ones that have already shorted out and snapped, and tugs on one to test it's strength to the other side. It's strong enough to carry her weight, so she turns, wrapping it up to her elbow and climbing upwards as she does. With a pistol in hand, she shoots at the window twice, then three times, breaking it, before launching herself off the wall and catapulting herself into the window, landing in a heap just inside. Junkrat is as the front of the trailer, which she suddenly realizes is an old fashioned RV... And what is he doing? There's wires in his hand, and suddenly, the whole vehicle comes to life with a rumble. He looks back at her, and panics, throwing the car into gear and the entire _home_ starts to pull away, lights and wires snapping off of it. Dust falls down in a sheet around the outside of the car, and they start to pull away.

Just about then, there is a loud crack just outside as Gabriel convinces Roadhog to pour enough scrap into a supporting pillar of the building their in. As the entire corner of the housing unit starts to crumble around them, Gabriel spins away, becoming nothing but a cloud and leaving Mako with the concrete prison he's suddenly encased him in. Reaper can hear the grunt of pain as the ceiling comes down- Mako isn't going anywhere.

Junkrat however? He's on a roll, literally, with Jaelen aboard his rolling artifact of death. Reaper sees them tear away from the cluster of buildings, rolling dangerously towards the exit of Owellton, faster than he can keep up, even in wraith form.

“Jaelen!” He shouts after them, but the woman can't hear him. She's too busy fighting with Junkrat over the controls of the RV. When she reaches for the wheel, he steers dramatically back the opposite direction, causing the vehicle to veer unsafely close to the wall. Recorrecting, it's clear that he hasn't actually driven a car in years- let alone the RV... And yet he's comfortable enough with the controls to know what to to press and when to press it.

As they wheel onto the underground turnpike, he veers once more widely to the opposite side. Jaelen, however, is stronger. With a roar, she remembers what got her in this shithole in the first place...

The ability to fight. She reaches down to the man's shirt and yanks him up and away from the steering wheel, quite literally throwing him to the back of the RV and doing her best to take over. She doesn't know exactly how to drive one of these- it has wheels for christ sakes, and the pedals are old and rudimentary. Yet, even when she hits what she's sure is the break pedal, the thing doesn't stop. It's a brick rolling on wheels, and suddenly, she's terrified of the ball of rotten shrapnel they're trapped in.

 

It's then that she hears four shots, unmistakable as to who made them.

Wounded and bleeding, panting for breath, Gabriel has moved as fast as he can, sprinting and ghosting, fleeing out after the rolling, careening RV. It takes four shots from his guns, not as strong against targets this far away, to put the two rear tires flat.

 

Slowly, the dragging rear end of the trailer brings it to a skidding stop, and after a minute, Jaelen kicks ope the door and drags Junkrat out with her.

“HELL,” she barks, “You didn't tell me we were going on a fuckin' ride! Didn't tell me we were goin' to get half-blowed-up. Shot to pieces-” she trails off as she gets close to him and her eyes widen as she sees the blood seeping through his pale armor where he was hooked. “Holy Christ, Gabi are you alright?”

“ _Part of the job, kid._ Get him bound before he wakes up... And Gagged. Lets get him back to the bikes and get the hell out of here.”

“Are you going to make it?” She asks.

“I'll be fine,” _I hope,_ “Just do it.”

 

They made it back to the bikes, and with a slumped over, bruised Junkrat, back to the harbor. Besides a few strange looks and a throbbing pain in his shoulder, they finally made it back aboard their own vessel. A sedative was used to keep Jamison out long enough for them to get him secured, and when that was done, only then did Gabriel try peeling off the torn armor over his shoulder and chest. The nanites were healing him, but it was slow, and it only worked when he fed. Fighting Hog had done little in the way of that- he simply couldn't get close enough to let them do as they would have otherwise. The wound is grizzly. Overwatch didn't have enough medics to send them on every mission, but luckily, one of the soldiers they had brought with them on the initial mission knew some basic first aid. They were too bored to sit idle for long, so they opportunity to work on Gabriel as a fun time. A deployed biotic grenade helps along with the stitches they start putting into him, and half way through their flight back towards Junkertown, it's time to eat. He's part way through his meal- a heated up piece of meat and potatoes with a small, slightly stale salad. Jamison has finally come awake, and is beginning to writhe. He manages to wrestle the gag of wrapped cloth out of his mouth, and glares in their direction.

“You _crashed_ my RV! Ya BITCH!”

“Your _vehicle_ crashed it's damn self,” Jaelen snapped back, moving to stand, intending to cross the room to gag him again. “The breaks went out and they had to clean what was left of it out of the tunnel, you _damn madman_.”

“Oh, _I'm_ the madman? You're walkin' into the _Queen's_ hands-”

“ _So what,_ ” Jaelen snapped rhetorically, trying to make him shut up, but she had just reached him, about to gag him once more, when he lit into her.

“So? You don't think I know who you _really_ are, _Ms Carter?_ You think I didn't know you better? Eh? You think I don't? The Queen's little buttercup, roight? Her gleamin' champion, the one she always threatened to send after me to tear off my other arm. Y'think I don't know what happened when you showed your sorry ass up in Owellton, ey? You think I don't know why 'er how _most_ people end up in Owellton? _Don' you ever wonder why it's called Oh-Well-ton, Mate? Y'think I don't?_ ” She tried to gag him then, but the man suddenly bit her hand as it got close to him, and she yelled and recoiled, before suddenly backhanding him with enough force to leave a blackening mark on his cheek. Through the pain, Jamison snarled at her. “Y'two are in for a bleedin' treat. She'll have your heads. She's the fuckin' kingpin, and you two are just... Just pawns playin' into her hands.”

“What do _you_ know about the Queen?” Gabriel suddenly asked, abandoning his meal to approach. The wraith examined Jaelen's hand for a brief moment as she cradled it, the blood seeping out of a few punctures. There was a gleam of metal in one of the fingers, giving a brief reminder to her prosthetic bones. “You alright?” he asked, ignoring the throbbing pain in his treated shoulder.

“Well enough. We should pull this guy's teeth-”

“That's not going to happen,” he hissed, “I'm sure that whatever the Queen has planned for him is punishment enough-”

“ _The Queen- The Queen-_ You two bloody idiots even know why they call her that? You think its cause she was suppose to pull these people out of poverty? Think she was suppose to rebuild? Some miracle-story loike that? No!” Junkrat snapped. “The truth is she just killed those people and took 'em because she didn't want anyone else tellin' her how to live-”

“Them... The fuel cells _you_ stole?” Jaelen growls.

“Well _yeah_.”

“And you took them for some _noble purpose?_ We suppose to believe that, Rat?”

“What? Fuck no, I took 'em to sell 'em for cash! I ain't stupid.”

The more he said he wasn't stupid the more it seemed like he was just in a really bad cycle of trying to convince himself that he wasn't despite that he was, in fact, not smart. For a moment, all three of them stared at one another, totally besides themselves as they stared.

“Right. Cash. What the hell did you even spend it on, Rat? You sure as hell didn't fix your arm... Or your leg...”

For a moment, Junkrat said nothing. He became very deadly quiet, his lips pulling into a deep, dark scowl as he glanced towards Reaper.

“Well it don't matter now, does it? He's dead ain't he? Y'fuckin' killed him.”

“W-what?” Jaelen and Gabriel glanced at each other, then back at Junkrat. “Are you- You? The _bodyguard?_ ”

“ _The bodyguard!?_ ” Jaelen gasped.

“Rutledge. Mako- we was partners, yanno? I mean, he was my bodyguard but he-... Kept me out of trouble. Saved my hide a hell of a lot of times. Made sure didn't anyone skin me, y'understand?”

“You _didn't_ spend that much money on a bodyguard,” Reaper growled.

“Hell no.” Junkrat snapped again. “He was dyin', ya fool. Lungs were decayin' away or some shit. He never could breathe roight. He was my buddy. _My best friend._ ”

“ _So..._ ” Jaelen trailed off, curious.

“So I traded the cells, eh? Two of em, so he could get new ones. New lungs, mor'rless. Some omnic rejects, just needed a good oil now and then, a bit of gas- What'n hell do you care anyway, eh? He's dead now an' you's gonna trade me to the Queen to see that I get turned inside out-”

Gabriel felt his jaw tense. As much as he wanted to _feel_ something, he didn't. Junkrat- Roadhog, the Queen... These were all just pawns in the greater picture. A snapshot into someone _else's_ worldly story. Not his... Still, his lips tightened.

“I once saw a building fall on someone else. They lived,” Gabriel uttered, as if it was some kind of solace to the emotional Junkrat.

Two of them, he traded... But he stole three. Jaelen noticed the difference, and her head tilted as she glared at him. “Two. Where's the third, Rat? Is that where you were driving that old _relic_ of yours?”

“Like hell I'd tell you what happened to it, you want it? Find it yourself.”

“We _don't_ want it. The Queen does. You know she'll ask for it, Junkrat,” Jaelen warned.

“Then let _her_ find it.”

“She'll kill you if you don't help. You know that.”

“She'll kill me either way! So fuck her, and _fuck_ you _too_. You were only _ever_ any good as someone _else's lack-_ ” He didn't get to finish the statement. Gabriel's fist met his face in the same place that Jaelen's had, and put him back out.

“ _Whoops,_ ” Reaper growled vehemently. “ _I must have slipped._ ” His head snapped towards Jaelen, as she stood there, fuming. Gabriel turned her away from Junkrat. His voice softened. “ _You_ made the decision to join Overwatch, Jaelen, just like you made the decision to save your parents from what Deadlock was planning, all those years ago. You didn't do that as _anyone's_ lackey. You made the decision to do something better with your life. No one else chose for you. Remember that.”

The woman smiled faintly and nodded. She then slipped back around and gagged Junkrat properly.

 

This time, when they arrive at Junkertown, Jaelen is ready.

“I'm going in,” she says as they prepare themselves. Gabriel wraiths into the armor, not really repaired, but patched up as much as it can be until techs can get to it.

“You're sure?” Gabriel asks as he glances back at her. He wasn't commanding her this time. Ordering an Agent into a situation where they were emotionally compromised seemed like a terrible idea, now that he had given it plenty of thought. That didn't stop Winston from sending Jesse to Japan, though, had it? He wasn't given long to dwell on the idea as Jaelen continued.

“Sure enough. I need to face her, Gabi. I need to see her again and know that I've moved on to somethin' else. Somethin' better. That I didn't just _end_ when she threw me out.

“You're not going to do some kind of _reveal_ are you? Please-”

“No,” the woman snapped back. “No... I won't have no need to if this all goes down the way it's 'spose to, ain't that right?”

“ _In theory_. If I've learned _anything_ in any of the wars I've been in, _nothing_ ever goes to plan. Not exactly.”

“Then I'll deal with it. I need to do this.”

After a long moment of quiet, Gabriel nods. This was her decision, and he was keen to let her have it, especially if she needed it to move on. Junkrat, meanwhile, remained sedated, as he had been for the last few minutes prior to them disembarking. As expected, Gabriel has the other soldiers hang back... Not entirely idle, but on call. The ship is in the air, this time, sliding right over Junkertown, in plain sight. People stared, glancing upwards from their daily lives amidst the rusted metal and concrete as the shadow loomed into view over them. There was no need for stealth here, not when the Queen was expecting them. They were... _Almost_ welcome here... Especially since they had Junkrat with them.

The sedative wouldn't last long, but that was just so that the Queen could do with him as she pleased when they arrived- assured that he wasn't actually _dead,_ or braindead for that matter.

When the ship came to a stop, they were just in front of what appeared to be the obvious _main entrance_ to the Queen's lair of refuse, which Gabriel had not been able to find on his own earlier. It wasn't especially large, tucked away a fair distance behind the large, Colosseum-like arena, with stairs in differing shades of blue, gold and steel grey that wound up and around a heap of debris, finally stopping at what appeared to be a tall pair of doors reminiscent of the vacuum-sealed doors of a giant refrigerator. In this heat, Gabe couldn't help but think that was an entirely intentional feature. The ship let them off at the base of the stairs, and Gabriel heaved Junkrat over one of his shoulders and started up. The walk seemed harder for Jaelen than it might have otherwise been. Her hazel eyes were focused on the stairs, each step she took, walking as if it was the last time she'd see them again... And whether or not it was a good thing, or a bad thing, that it might be. With her mask on and her hood up, it was hard to tell her features outside of her lips and chin, but even her lips had been painted a dark red to obscure their reality. Finally, they reached the doors, guarded by four men, who, after looking them and their cargo over, stood aside and let them in. As expected, they were brought in with a rush of cold air, and the Queen was waiting for them.

“Well, well _well._ Looks like Overwatch is good to its word, _after all_. Took longer than I expected.”

Hearing her voice grated through Jaelen's ears. It was painful and sharp like the cut of a razor, too close to the skin. Still she held her composure. The sound of Junkrat's body hitting the floor was obvious as Gabriel dropped him in front of them.

“You agreed to tell us what you know,” he rumbled, ignoring her complaints.

She made a small tisking sound with her tongue and moved to stand, sliding across the floor towards the two, eyes landing on the shuddering form of Junkrat, who was coming around with a groan. Her lips scowled into an almost feral snarl, pure hatred pouring through her veins. “Look at this _waste of life,_ ” she hissed as if to no one.

Then, without another moment's hesitation, the woman let out a small growl and hauled back one foot only to release it with full force into Jamison's exposed gut, causing everyone in the room to flinch with the unexpected violence- even Gabriel. Kicking someone when they were down was low, even for Reaper, who had shown restraint before. But, if the Rat wasn't awake before, he sure as hell was now, as he curled in on himself, gripping the bruised gut behind cuffed hands with a groan and growling. Wild, maddnened eyes snapped towards her.

“Y'roight bitch. What'n hell'd you have to do that for!?”

She spat on him, and the Rat turned his head away. The Queen looked back at the two with a small head nod. “Well, it's him. I don't know why I doubted you. You wanted to know about Sydney-”

“Ya stupid bitch!” Rat snarled again, hissing venomously in her direction as he rolled, trying to shove himself to his knees which were also bound. “YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW WHO YOU'RE WORKIN' WITH.”

 _Shit._ Gabriel's head snaps to Jaelen, as if to suggest that they really should have kept him gagged- the Queen would have undoubtedly removed the gag anyway, so that would have been useless, but _still._ Gabriel suffered down the urge to step on him to keep him quiet.

“ _He_ doesn't know what he's talking about,” Gabriel uttered darkly. “ _Just_ now coming off the sedatives...”

“I AIN'T HIGH, y'fuckin' fools.” He crawled forward on his knees, eyes beseeching the bewildered Queen. “ _These people ain't who y'think they are. See for yourself. Look'it 'er face._ ”

Fuck. _Fuck._

 

Jaelen wanted to scream. This was not part of the plan, just as Gabriel had said. The Queen snapped her eyes up to Jaelen's, unable to see behind the lenses of the avian themed mask. Gabriel could see the woman's jaw set, the tightening of the muscles in her cheeks making it obvious. Her boots tracked to the side, taking her around Junkrat to stand in front of the red Agent.

“Who're you?” She demanded. Jaelen said nothing.

Gabriel half stepped between them. “We're Overwatch, just as I said. Here on official business and nothing _more._ We finished our side of the bargain.”

“I want to see her face.”

“ _Too bad,_ ” Reaper warned aggressively.

“Show me your fuckin' face!” The Queen howled at Jaelen.

 

Jaelen felt the blood in her veins turn to steel, the tone in her voice shift into ice.

“You know _exactly_ who I am, _Sister._ ”

 

Gabriel had been so sure before now that nothing could surprise the Queen before now, but he was corrected. The woman's eyes popped, and overcame at once with fury, and betrayal- as if, Jaelen going into Exile only to end up working for Overwatch was a greater offense than simply having her abandoned to Owellton.

“How _dare_ you come back here, you _half-ling, you-_ ”

“ENOUGH,” Reaper shouted at once, his form exploding out a cloud of darkness enough to put a thin, black fog across the floor of the room that dissipated into the very shadows of the corners of the room, avoided by the many guards who it dared to go near. “Enough,” he repeated more quietly. “She is Overwatch now. She is our Cardinal. And you? You're just a client. _Pay. Up._ ”

The Queen looked between them both, and begin to grin, and to laugh as she stepped backwards, past the form of Junkrat, and back to her throne. But she didn't come to seat immediately- there was something about her that was aggressive, despite that her tone seemed jovial at best.

“This is... This is so... _Hilarious,_ really. A joke. It must be. My old _toaster oven_ in league with a _has-been hero._ You'll have your information. You see, Sydney is quite far away. We didn't see anything _besides_ the people who fled here trying to escape. We turned them away, forced their backs up to the southern air until their heels met the cliff. Those who didn't learn to fly fast enough _didn't make it_.” Meaning, she had killed _everyone_ who can come to Junkertown for help. A grizzly detail, Gabriel thought. “Everyone else who didn't fly away in that ship of theirs, I mean, hours before your lot ever even arrived.” So there had been another ship. Recruitment, as Gabriel suspected- the Omnic Leader had taken whatever omnic survivors who agreed to obey with her and destroyed everyone else. “So you have your information, my champion,” She spoke directly to Jaelen. “You have it, and you'll take it to your grave- let me introduce you _to your bloody replacement._ ”

Then, all at once, the Queen jerked a lever that had remained hidden behind the throne until just now. The three on the floor had only seconds to react as they heard the sounds of grinding metal and turning wheels as the ground beneath them suddenly gave way and a massive trap door opened. Junkrat screamed as he fell, and Gabriel managed to wraith in time to grab onto one of the nearby edges of the gap, but with his shoulder still injured, it would be hard to keep this hold for long. Jaelen was fast, but not fast enough to avoid the fall. She landed not far from Junkrat, who's prosthetic leg had broken off- he was now using it to pry apart the chains on his handcuffs to try and get himself free, and with the prosthetic off, it was easy to slip out of the bind around his knees.

“ _Gotta get out, gotta get out-_ ” he was stammering, and Jaelen glanced over at him. There was dirt and blood everywhere here in this pit... A pit, she realized... With a lot of _bone_. Crushed, splintered bone and metal...

And along the far wall, an intimidatingly large grate set into the wall, ominously dark beyond it. Hazel eyes shot up to Gabriel, whose talons were beginning to slip on the metal flooring of the throne room.

“Cardinal! Get out!” He shouted down at her, and she twisted, looking for _any_ other route to escape. She could hear the Queen taunting her from above.

“Get out? Oh no, she ain't getting out of there... In fact, why don't _you_ go and join her, _hero_ ,” She snapped, her steps carrying her across the distance to where Gabriel hung on, and her boot came down on his hand, not breaking anything, but causing his grip to slide, and he began to fall- beneath the armor, Gabriel felt the stitches rip, and let out a horrid yowl.

The man landed in a crouch, gripping his shoulder and glaring back up towards the gap above them- which was still open for some reason. Then, the two heard steps.

Steps, he thinks, that could have rivaled that of-

“ _Roadie?_ ” Junkrat asks, as if coming to the same conclusion.

A massive weight of a human being drops through the opening above and lands with enough force to make all the dirt and bone in the pit with them jump two inches off the floor.

Except it wasn't. No, it wasn't Roadhog, but another impossibly large man, decorated in armor and chains, with one massive _gun_ for one of his arms... Gabriel stared on in horror as he realized what it was... The remains of the now defunct, relic bodies from the first crisis... The refurbished corpse... Of a Tritelum unit. Somehow, this man had turned his body into the conduit needed to fuel this massively dangerous laser railgun. They were horrifying then, and they were horrifying now, even when attached to the end of a man's outstretched arm.

“ _Gotta get out!_ ” Junkrat continued, but Gabriel could see that the man was re-fastening his prosthetic leg and scrambling back towards the edge of the pit, keen on letting. Her replacement, Jaelen is reminded- the Queen's _new_ champion. She didn't know what his name was, and she didn't care. By the extensive headgear he wore, she wasn't sure he could tell them his name even if he had one. Gabriel now had a gun in each hand, pain forcibly ignored for the time being. Reaper heard the sound of the gun spinning up, and he didn't need any further warning to know to move. Jaelen acted out of instinct, diving the opposite direction from Gabriel, and out of the way of the beam that suddenly began to scorch a new line into the metal and concrete that surrounded the pit. By the scars on the walls, this man had been down here a _few_ times before.

“Don't let it touch you!” Gabe's voice was loud enough to scream over the sound of the gun, but soon he was moving again, away from the beam that was coming after him, clearly assessing him as the new threat. Each time he dodged, but he was beginning to wear thin. He needed to get behind the berserker and cripple him, if possible. Jay already seemed keen on the plan, and began to put as much ammo into the back of the weighty assailant as possible, but her pistols were not strong enough at this distance. Taking some notes from what she had learned from tracer, the woman dashed in and raised her guns up to the level of its head, unloading both clips. The helmet suddenly flew off, fractured and broken. Beneath, a balding man with tubing that ran from his cheeks around his jaw and down into his neck, then back to his spine, all glowing. A mouth full of misshapen teeth, sharpened in an unnatural way. Oh, he was human, or at least, he had been, once. Eyes burned with the same bright orange light that was given off by his gun, powering down just the same. Jaelen had only a fraction of a second to soak in these grizzly features before the thing suddenly swung at her, hitting her with so much force that she was knocked clear across the arena and into it's wall. She sluggishly sank down to the floor, struggling to catch her breath, her vision spinning. But the heavy had turned on her now, and was starting to stomp its way towards her. Gabriel had already open fired on its back, but he was heavily armored, and getting close enough was, as Jaelen saw, deadly, and Gabe was already wounded. Both of them heard the gun begin to whir up again, and this time, she was ready. As it came for her, she lunged forward, and it struggled to follow her- but it did follow her, incidentally cutting a gaping slash through the massive, unopened iron grate in the far wall before Jay suddenly leaped into the arm itself. She abandoned her pistols and used her raw strength instead. Taking advantage of her metal bone prosthetics and mechanical arm joints, she was able to tighten and twist upon the arm until it bent. The champion screamed and roared, trying to throw her off of it, and in so doing, sent the gun _with_ her across the room. Both Jaelen and weapon came to a skidding halt near the broken grate, and Gabriel took the opportunity to launch himself forward, scaling the man's back just long enough to put two shots into his head- ending his agony, and the fight.

 

Above, they could hear the Queen roar with dissatisfaction.

“FINE! BOYS? Let the beast out. Let's see what Moira's pet can really do!”

 

Reaper was _not_ Moira's pet, and _never_ had been. He was, for a moment, offended.

 

Until he realized that the Queen of Junkertown had _no way_ of knowing that he and Moira even _had_ any such connection between them, or that she had created him... Which meant, obviously, that...

 

The Queen wasn't talking about him. She wasn't talking about Reaper.

 

Black and red eyes slowly shifted towards the far wall, the broken grate, where Jaelen was trying to recover herself. His eyes widened with sudden realization.

“Jaelen, MOVE!” He roared, and she did, diving to the side, away from the opening.

 

 

Just in time for the arachnid to reveal itself.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, guys! Please let me know what you think! I am hoping to put chapters out more regularly, but right now they are still on a mini-hiatus, but I will put them out as often as I can.


	9. Savior

There they stood, the three of them, beside the leaking body of the Queen's now _dead_ champion. Jaelen had scampered to her feet, and raised her pistols towards the new, more harrowing enemy.

 _Moira's pet._ It had legs taller than three men standing on top of one another, fangs large enough and strong enough to pierce through the steel of any _one_ of the walls that made up _most_ of Junkertown. This was probably exactly why the Queen kept it in this _pit_. For the first time, Gabriel began to seriously wonder if he, or any of them, would get out of here. Reaper could survive a lot of things- but being digested? No, probably not.

And there was something more about this beast, something that made it very, very clearly unique.

 _And familiar._ It had eight eyes like any other spider, black, onyx orbs, but within the very center of each of them, a light, a glowing, red pupil... Red, and sometimes, _blue._ Blue, Gabriel realized, _like Moira herself._ As all eight legs pulled the monolithic creature forward, black and violet smoke wafted up off of them, a beast clearly made with the same technology used to create Reaper himself. This thing was going to be difficult to kill, if that was possible at all.

Then, it roared, a hideous thing like the wail of a dozen different ghosts, and the pained cry of an animal in pain... And behind those giant fangs- a row of strange, bizarre, twisted, _human_ teeth. This was one of Moira's experiments. In the moment of this revelation, Gabriel can't help but to notice... He isn't in near as much pain as he was before. The wound, he can tell, even beneath the stitching and bandages, is better... His body is healing itself off of the body nearby, and probably even did during the fight, without Gabriel even realizing it. Jaelen is not lost on it, her eyes have shifted away from the eight-legged beast, but to the faint trails of black mist that seep out of Gabriel, through the cracks in his armor near the floor, out of his boots and across the bone flooring to the dead body... And then back again. Her hazel stare and fixated upon it, and she learns first hand how it is done. She knew, before, but she had never seen it.

And it seemed that the Reaper wasn't the only hungry patron in the room.

 

The beast crawled forward with another hideous roar, its foremost legs stabbing into the ground with enough force to make the bone chips rumble and slide away from its massive core.

“Y'like him, dont'cha, Reaper? Familiar, ain't he?” The Queen's voice echoes down into the chamber at them as she leers from the gap overhead. “We've _affectionately_ come to callin' 'im _The Harvestman._ ”

And what an accurate, harrowing title it was. Jaelen couldn't help but feel like her soul was about to be harvested along with what it seemed to be after... The broken body nearby. As it stepped forward, they stepped back, and it skirted around the side of the pit. It didn't seem to want to engage them, it seemed afraid- maybe not of them, but of the light overhead. It was hungry, Gabriel could tell by the way it moved, and the way those red and blue pupils shifted between Reaper himself and the body on the ground. Gabriel reached back, his hand on Jaelen's shoulder, pulling her backwards with him. As they moved, the Harvestman moved in, over the body, and it's massive fangs and mouth dropped, impaling the body just to start chewing, and ripping it apart, armor and all. The two watched as it, too, began to feed, its own nanites pouring out of it and into the body like an ooze, affecting it almost like an acid, eating away at any exposed tissue the second it touched. Jay was horrified, and glanced at Gabriel, as if to ask if he could do that _too._ At once, his head shook. He had never seen anything like this before, and he was certainly _glad_ he didn't feed like that. The sound of its wail, the pain in its voice, however, resonated with Gabriel in a strange way. Its fear of them, and the light above, instilled a feeling of pity into him... Into them both. He felt his mind kick into overdrive.

What has happened to this creature. What was it before? What had Moira done to it, and how much pain had it gone through to get to where it was now? How much pain was it _still_ going through? Would the agony ever actually ever stop? Did it heal like he did, and could it feed in the middle of combat like Gabriel seemed to be learning to do?

How long had it been here? By the look on Jaelen's face, this had never existed in her time here, but that was a few years ago at least... Which meant that this creature was _relatively_ new. Gabriel had never been into any of Moira's private labs. Could she have made this creature while he was still working with Talon? And if she was, why wasn't Talon using it? Why had he never seen or heard of it? No...

But there was something... Else.

Gabriel only fed off of bodies, and what did not elude him was the fact that this thing was _feeding_ not only on the body, but the metal, and that this chamber was made almost entirely out of stone... Junkertown hated omnics. Talon, while they did not hate them, were not _overly_ fond, as far as Doomfist was concerned.

During the battle months ago, where in Gabriel was seriously injured and destroyed their ship, this new faction attacked not only Overwatch and civilians, but Talon as well. How had this animal ended up here? What connections did the Queen of Junkertown have to Talon?

None, as far as Reaper had ever known... Which meant that this development was new. That this animal was new, clearly an experiment made to try and counter the omnic threat.

 

And suddenly, it clicked.

Talon had suffered a lot of losses recently. Reaper had betrayed them, Widowmaker seemed to be insane, Sombra was a mole, Sanjay was under investigations for the Vishkar's involvement in Talon installments and activities, and as far as Akande and Moira went? The Doomfist was missing, Akande hadn't been seen, and up until _now_ there was no evidence that Moira had survived the blast. It was impossible, wasn't it? No one had found any bodies. In fact no one had even found any trace of them having ever been there... But Gabriel had seen them with his own eyes. He _knew_ they were there, in that fight, in that very ship that _he_ exploded. Maximilien could have reached out to Junkertown to make an alliance- he was a businessman. Talon needed _people_. They needed agents, and they needed allies. They needed people who weren't against killing omnics, and this beast had clearly been designed to do exactly that.

 

Maximilien was smart. But this?

This creature had not existed then, but did now.

 

Moira did not _have_ apprentices.

 

Moira had created this.

Recently, at that.

 

Moira was alive. She had somehow survived the blast.

 

Gabriel felt the blood in his veins run cold with the realization. It was only a few seconds, but it was all he needed to make the connections, to realize the how, and _why_ of this creature's entire existence and reason for being here, in a bone pit, in Junkertown.

Pure, unadulterated rage began to pump itself through Gabe's body. She had survived.

_Moira O'fuckingDeorain had survived._

 

All at once, every thought in his mind was interrupted with a sudden, abrupt sound. He felt as though every ounce of rage had erupted through his skin and lit them all on fire...

But... It wasn't Gabriel who had sent them on fire. It was Junkrat.

In their moments of horrified bewilderment, while the creature fed, he had worked. Inventive and tireless, the rat had crawled over to the discarded gun, the broken Tritelum unit's laser that Jaelen had torn off, and he had worked as quickly as his hands could, turning the weapon into a small, localized explosion that suddenly catapulted him up and out of the gaping pit.

All mayhem ensued. The laser that was used like a rocket tore through the bottom of the pit, and causing red hot chips of bone to fly in all directions, including onto Jaelen, Gabriel, and the Harvestman. At once, the spider erupted in fury, all fear dissipating in favor of its need to protect itself and _end_ the attackers. In the gap above, there was a roar of surprise and anger as the Queen and all of her guards watched the troublemaker that was Jamison that had come flying out of the pit. Bullets began to fly, screams ensued.

Down in the pit, the two agents are suddenly in motion, dodging flying, flaming chips, and the stabbing, dagger-like legs that had begun to jab at them at every angle. They needed to get out of here, and fast, but they, unlike Junkrat, did not have a rocket to fly on out of this hole. This made their escape options especially limited. Moreover, if they weren't careful, the Queen and her goons above would get wise and start shooting down on them, possibly killing them, or else making their flee away from the Harvestman even more difficult.

The two were on opposite sides of the beast now, shooting as they could, trying to aim for its legs to try and cripple it. Could Gabriel get them out of here? Would a well-placed teleport work? He was _still_ injured, even if slightly, and Junkertown was large enough that taking them outside of the walls was going to be impossible. Getting somewhere safe would weaken Gabriel desperately so, and they had no medic on board- some troops with some medical experience, but nothing that would help Gabriel _make it_... And if his nanites had begun to feed on live targets as well as dead, did he really trust himself around them if he was that far gone? Could he _trust_ his nanites not to hurt them as well? Did they obey him, or did they have a mind of their own? The man still didn't know, and if they teleported away, even if they made it back to the ship, they might not survive to talk about it. The ship, he reminded himself, which was right outside this citadel. For all he knew, they were already under attack, and they had to get back to them. Comm devices had been quiet this entire time, and up until now, Gabriel hadn't even _realized_ it. Could they even communicate with the ship outside? Surely, the ship knew that something was going on by monitoring their vitals, but the two hadn't gotten any messages from them since they arrived. Something was wrong. They needed to get outside. Even if Gabriel teleported them to the rim of the gap, the hail of gunfire that would immediately on them would kill them both in seconds.

They needed something, they needed-

 

A distraction.

 

There was something, a massive, loud crash that echoed in the room above them, much to the horror of everyone still alive on the floor above. There was a scream of tearing metal, and cracking stone. The two looked up through the gap in the floor, and all at once, so did the spider.

Overhead, the top of the citadel had quite literally been torn off, and the ship they had flown in on slipped into the new gap, blocking out the sun.

A ladder appeared, dropped quickly out of the open cargo door, into the pit over them. The ladder, incidentally, landed on the back of the outraged Harvestman. It heaved with rebuke and turned on Gabriel, who had done significant damage to one of its legs. As it charged for him, Jaelen saw her opportunity, and rushed forward, latching onto the ladder.

“Chief!” She cried to him, and he had become a ghost, entirely, forcing the beast to charge itself into the wall beyond, briefly stunning it, and causing a massive crack to form in the stone wall. There was a creak, an unsteady whine from the structure above- it was caving in. All of it. It had begun to crumble with all of the structural damage. Gabriel reformed at the ladder and gripped it, tightly, throwing his weight into it to swing it away from one of the beast's reaching legs. All at once, they were being pulled out of the pit. The ladder began to retract, drawing them up and away. The roaring of the ship's engines above them drowned out almost all of the gunfire and the screaming of the creature below them, who had turned now to face them.

Jaelen watched in horror as she watched it, as it hunched, and its legs bunched of beneath it.

It was preparing to jump.

“G-Gabi!” She stammered, her hand gripping at the closest part of him she could reach- a boot and part of his thigh as she crawled upwards on the ladder. He looked down, and saw it too.

 

_Fuck. If they didn't get up now, they were all going to die._

 

“Hold on to me,” he commanded firmly, and reached down to put his arm under hers, pulling her up to him. There was no time now, to deliberation. He had no choice. As soon as Jaelen was pulled against his side, he teleported them, straight up, into the hull of the ship. They landed in a collapsed heap, and despite that Gabriel's vision blurred he crawled, leaving Jaelen where she laid on the floor of the ship towards the side where the ladder was attached.

 

The Harvestman made its leap. All at once, the ship rocked, the ladder tugged downwards as it began to pull towards the weight of the creature.

“GET US OUT OF HERE!” Gabriel screamed, and aimed his arm down over the side of the ship. The other Soldiers there with them followed suit, at they began to pelt the beast's face with ammo, slowing it and damaging it- but barely slowing it down as it tried to crawl upwards. Besides being starving, it wanted out of this place _too._ The ship was pulling away, now under gunfire itself.

One of those shots tore through the chain of one side of the ladder, which began to swing and strain under the arachnid's weight. It hadn't quite reached the ship when the second chain finally snapped. Together, the severed ladder and the Harvestman fell, collapsing back on the side of the broken citadel, and by the way it got up and proceeded to terrorize _everyone_ and every _thing_ in its new path, Gabe could guess that it would be _just_ fine. Junkertown? Who knew if it would survive, really.

Their ship finally began to pull away, out of the city limits and over the wasteland, back towards home... Or at the very least, safety.

They eventually turned towards Fiji, which was closer, and would allow the crew a chance to move onto a different ship- one that didn't had bullet holes in it, where they could get healed up, and a decent night's sleep.

 

A few hours later, a heavy hand lifted under a tilted piece of cement and hoisted it upwards and threw it aside. Standing near the edge of a nearly-destroyed Junkertown, a familiar madman was pulled out of the wreckage, bruised, battered, with a broken prosthetic leg, bruises and burns on his exposed skin, barely breathing. A familiar inhaler was shoved up to his lips.

“ _Inhale_ ,” Came the muffled command, and the rat obeyed.

The smoke cleared from his eyes.

 

“ _...Roadie?_ ”

 

Gabriel wasn't aware who had survived that attack, or how. They were hours away now, in Fiji. He was in a familiar room deep within the resort-like hub, down in the bowels of it, healing with a biotic field and giving his report over a video call.

“It wasn't anything like I'd ever seen, Jackie. This thing moved and acted like it had thoughts... Like it wasn't totally animal. It had new tricks I've never even seen before. Blood of nanites, like acid, ate right through metal armor. It could feed and wraith almost like I do- it was _huge_.”

“Are you alright?” Came the man's reply.

“I'm... Hungry. Even now. I'm healed, mostly, but I had to pull us out of there. Teleporting like that has always been risky.”

“I know,” Jack sighs breathily. He's seen Gabriel in some of those instances. He knew what it took out of the wraith to move with _other_ people.

“You don't know _everything_ , Jack.”

“... What? What do you mean?” Gabriel had seen it enough now, he'd seen proof of it, and it was getting easier.

“My nanites. They've changed. They feed now, even on _living_ people.” There was a confused sort of silence from Jack's end, and Gabe could see the man look away, and down, as if to try and hide his thoughts.

“Is it a threat to others? What has Angela said about it?”

“Angela's been more focused on the way they're changing than how it is in practice. She isolated them and watched what they did. You heard the last call she and I had. She isn't concerned about the feeding exactly. She seems more concerned about who they serve. Whether they seem self-concerned or more loyal to me.”

“And what do you think, Gabe?”

“I... I have no idea. I don't _feel_ like I command them, Jack, anymore that anyone commands their body to sweat. It feels self regulating, like they do it because I need it, whether I want them to or not.”

“So you're worried they might feed on people you... Care about. Allies?”

“Maybe.”

“Did they feed on any of your soldiers?”

“... No,” Gabe says gently, looking down. “Not that I saw, but they did feed on Jesse when I dueled him... He was exhausted afterwards. Drained.”

“Maybe they only feed when you're in combat- maybe they feed where your focus is or who you're against.”

“Not always, I don't think? I think... I mean. It _feels_ like they feed preferentially. Almost consciously... It's like they read the amount of need I have, and base their decision on that.”

“ _They, them,_ ” Jack parrots, sighing, his head tilting with a small shake. “They're your blood, Gabriel, aren't they? How could they be self conscious?”

“You tell me, when you look into the eyes of those little _things_ you refuse to let me get rid of, that they _aren't_ , Jack. Look at them!” And Jack knew at once that Gabriel was right. Those three little ghosts that had formed off of him- they were still very much self conscious. Animals, but sentient all the same. Did they think and rationalize like a human man? No. But they were, in fact, independent. Jack had kept two of them as pets, where as the third had taken up residence in the scientists' lab.

“You should talk to Angela about this. Maybe she will do more tests to see if they're a threat.”

“There is a _bigger_ threat than I am concerned about, Jack.”

“Oh?”

“That creature hadn't been there very long. As I said it had new tricks. I... I don't know how, or when exactly it got there, but it is Moira's work. Moira is alive, Jack. She survived the blast... Somehow.”

“How can you know for sure?”

“Think about it. Talon has lost the Doomfist, they've lost _me_ , they can't count on Widow, or Sanjay... Unless they have new allies that I am not aware of, who are somehow capable of picking up right where Moira left off, then she survived, and she is continuing her experiments. This creature didn't exist when I was with them, and we had no ties with Junkertown. They do now. They're looking for new partners. New people who could help them defeat the new _faction_ too.”

“So Moira is alive... We will have to find out how she lived, and we will have to find where she's hiding.” Jack's mood looks soured, and he sags in his seat. “There's something else. Something my team found.” He leans forward just a little. “Some of the omnics that went to Sydney were defeated. Almost all of them had markings on them, or brandings-”

“I saw that too,” Gabe added.

“One of them was carrying something else, though,” Jack said, “A memchip, of sorts. We found it among the wreckage of one of their bodies. Its a chip meant to be read by omnics. Sombra couldn't decipher it, so we sent it... We sent it to Lynx Seventeen- an Omnic that _Zaryanova_ worked with when searching for Sombra.”

“Jinx wasn't any help?” Gabriel asks, since they had rescued him months prior as well.

“Jinx has decided to take his leave. After the danger was put on his wife, he didn't want to risk anything further... So to my understanding, he is being re-skinned and renamed. We might see him again later, but for now? He's out of the picture, going dark to avoid being targeted again. Anyway, with some careful procedures in place, Lynx was able to decipher the code. It's a recruitment letter... For omnics, from The Queen- she calls herself the _true_ Queen. Her faction... The Gilded Conclave. Her icon, a golden crown. She thinks of herself as above royalty, even then. She talks about her plans like a god designing the earth. The chip is aimed to recruit any omnic that has any pre-existing issues with humans, and for those that don't, or for those that sympathize or want peace with humans, she enslaves them. It's a virus, more or less. It brainwashes their own coding and their own memories, allying them against humans. Lynx was only protected from the code because Sombra was able to read it across the feed he was displaying only seconds before it took hold of him. It is _undoubtedly_ the code that was used to enslave Jinx, as well- though perhaps modified. Stronger. We don't know if we can even free the minds of those omnics who are affected by it.”

Gabriel let the weight of this sink in.

Moira was alive, and a delusional Omnic was making an omnic army and painting herself as a god. Junkertown was... Destroyed? Who really knew what exactly had happened there after they got out? And how would the Queen of Junkertown respond? Would she ally with Talon if Talon promised to help them rebuild? That was a dangerous thought.

“What is Overwatch prepared to do in order to stop the destruction?” Gabriel finally asked. Jack knew exactly what it was he wanted to know. Overwatch made every effort to keep people alive whenever it could, and killing people simply to get them out of the way was never really ideal for them... But if the enslaved Omnics couldn't be freed...

“Whatever it takes, Gabe,” Jack said. There was a sort of depressed finality to his voice that made it clear he wasn't happy about the decision. “We have Sombra and Lynx working on something that might help... But no headway, yet.”

“Right...” Inside, Gabe knew he wasn't as emotionally attached as Jack was; he never had been _that_ kind of hero, but it was still regrettable, even for him. “Anyway, we have a flight as soon as everyone's had some rest. First thing in the morning, I'd guess.”

“And what about you?” Jack asks, his blue eyes showing some concern as he stares at the biotic field sitting on the desk nearby to Gabe, the stitching in his exposed shoulder. The wraith sighs, and suppresses the urge to shrug.

“What about me, Jackie? I'll heal. Always do. It was just a deep injury, and there's nothing to feed on here... So I have to do it the slow way.”

“That's not what I mean. Seeing that _thing._ Finding out that Moira may have somehow survived... How are _you?_ ” Jack had always been more intuitive than most people when it came to Gabe's mental status.

“ _Outraged, I guess_ ,” Reaper rumbled in response. Jack could almost immediately feel the attitude of the man shift, that aggressive demeanor that almost made him seem like a different person, the way his movements grew aggravated and hostile- not towards him, but towards life in general. “What I did before was no _small_ task. I was hurt, _bad,_ for a long time. I didn't even know if I would survive, Jack, but in my mind, it was worth it because _she_ would finally be gone. She'd be done causing this pain to other people, and unleashing this... This _death_ onto the world. She and Akande would finally be dead and gone and if I died... Then maybe it would have been easier-”

“Don't!” Jack snapped at once. “Don't you _ever_ say it would have been easier for anyone, Gabriel. Don't _think_ like that. You're not a problem for anyone-”

“I am for the UN,”

“No! Not anymore. You're part of this team, Gabe. You're one of us. You're integral to this company, to our success, and to _my_ happiness. I love you-”

The old Soldier's voice cut sharply and he stopped, on the verge of letting his emotions get the better of him.

“I love you too, Jackie,” Gabe said to soothe the man. “I just... I just meant that the world could have its clearly defined line of what's good and what's bad. I've always been somewhere in the grey and I just thought that if I was gone-”

“No. Stop, Gabriel. You can't _think_ that way. It's _never_ been that simple, even before Moira did her tests on you. Even before the Crisis. Before there were Omnics. There has _never_ been a clearly defined line on what's good and bad. Never. And _you_ are good. You chose this, didn't you?”

“What do you mean?”

“This life. You chose to come back to Overwatch. You chose to leave Talon. You chose to try ending them. You have helped millions of people, Gabriel. No one is perfect, but you _chose_ to be better. You're using the darkness she put on you to brighten the lives of other people...” Jack paused softly. “We need more people like you, Gabe.”

Gabe said nothing for a long moment. Jack was right. Sacrificing himself was never optimal in any scenario- and Gabe still would have done it if it meant killing Akande and Moira...

But now? Now Moira had lived, somehow- so if he _had_ died, it would have all been for nothing. Gabriel had to be more careful. He had to be, and he knew that Jack was right... He couldn't think of himself like that, as much as part of him really _felt_ like things would be better... He was wrong. He was wrong and he felt guilty. He hadn't yet forgiven himself for all of the terrible things he had done, and though he wasn't sure if he ever could, he had to _trust_ that other people needed, and wanted him here.

Jack, especially.

Wasn't Jack the real reason he had done all of this? Wasn't Jack why he had left Talon, even if he hadn't known it at the time? Jack was everything to him. Everything.

 

“I've got to get to sleep, Jackie,” Gabe said, trying to avoid any more awkward silences while they got lost within their own thoughts. “If you're still on base tomorrow, I'll see you when I get there.”

“I'll be here,” Jack said softly, a smile on his lips. “Goodnight, Gabriel.”

“Goodnight, Sunshine.”

He clicked the holo-screen to end the call, and then turned away. Grabbing the biotic field off the desk, he set it on an end table next to the bed before crawling into the sheets.

 

The following day, he was met with Jack, still asleep in what had become their bed, instead of simply Gabriel's bed, a small cluster of three roses on the pillow where Gabe would lay, all red. It was a small enough gesture, but one that brought a flush to Gabriel's cheeks and a warmth to his heart when he leaned in to greet the sleeping Soldier with a kiss.

 

Gabriel and Jaelen unloaded ever detail of their trip to Australia, and then, it was bad to training. Training, and trials. It would seem that Zarya had fallen well into her role as Major General, and they had started taking applications for new Captains to serve along side Lena.

This process was slow, and grueling. Besides the usual work they did on their various missions, these took place almost every day. Gabe couldn't remember the names of all those who applied, and the days almost began to blur together. Summer passed into fall with the occasional outbreak of violence, and the smallest bits of news filtering in, piece by piece, as trials continued.

The Huntsman, it would seem, had escaped Junkertown after half destroying it, which was covered by local media as the massive arachnid had wandered into the irradiated desert and made its home inside of a giant cavern. One of only a few strange beasts who now occupied that land, Gabe was convinced.

Of everyone who had applied over the last several weeks, five new captains were chosen, and many new recruits made their way to private. Lynx 17 decided, since he was already working against Talon and The Gilded Conclave, to join Overwatch as part of its special intelligence, to work along side Sombra. The new Captains?

Gabriel would have to know them well, considering how they would be working with many of the new privates. He thumbed through their files as they sat in his hand whilst he and Jack waited to present them to Winston.

 

**Nicholas “Nick” Gray**

Age: 38

Height: 6'2”

Wight: 191 lbs.

US Air Force Veteran.

African American.

_Skilled with semi-automatic weapons, knives, and possessing the ability to pilot many modern day aircraft. History or running his own group of people in the past, with high success rates. Nick has gone above and beyond the call of duty on many separate missions, garnishing many metals and awards for his outstanding valor. Additionally, prior to his application to join Overwatch, he was on the front lines in the United States to quell the uprising omnic-human violence, so this is an area he has experience in._

Trials: Outstanding.

 

**Roy “Haymaker” Hudson**

Age: 22

Height: 5'6”

Weight: 186 lbs.

Former Wrestler. Titled on multiple fronts and weight tiers.

Caucasian / Scottish.

_Skilled in hand to hand combat and ground strategies. Specializes in militia and guerrilla warfare. Skilled with pistols and Shotguns. Favors old fashioned tech. Though Hudson can sometimes be uncouth and rough, he is outstandingly loyal to his team, regardless how well he knows them. He is resourceful, and is able to make just about anything a weapon, if he can't get into put his muscle to use. Haymaker, as he affectionately calls himself, wants to put his abilities to use where he feels like they can do some good. This, coupled with his specialties, makes him a quality candidate for Captain._

Trials: Outstanding.

 

**Faye Massey**

Age: 34

Height: 5'5”

Weight: 125

Former Jujitsu Trainer.

Filipino.

_Skilled in stealth operations, assassinations and subterfuge. Capable of working and commanding a team for flawless results. Quiet and composed, punctual, effective. Lethal. Massey, who responds to almost nothing else, is to the point, loyal, trustworthy, and reliable. She has worked with countless groups around her country, building and strengthening, and helping to quell local crises with both negotiation and quick, powerful action. She could be incredibly useful for Overwatch stealth missions. Her intervention in many violent outbreaks in her own country have lead to quick resolutons with little to no bloodshed, which is both admirable and useful for a company like Overwatch._

Trials: Outstanding.

 

**Aero 20**

Age: -

Height: 6'9”

Weight: 358 lbs.

Soldier Class Infiltrator. Weapon. Subclass: Military Mechanic.

Omnic. Origin: Pakistan. Current Residence, Barbados.

_Aero's make and model was designed for war, but like many of his kind, he shows a preference for peacefully resolving conflicts, or using abstract concepts to stop a conflict. His out of the box way of thinking could prove crucial to Overwatch and its missions. His calculating mindset can offer valuable advise in the long run in terms of probability and mathematical capability. On top of this, his intellect and ability to repair on-the-go are vital to operations, as he can act not only as the Soldier he was designed as, but as a much needed mobile healer for both human and omnic agents in the field. Aero hopes to stem the conflict between humans and omnics before it gets out of hand, insisting that we are all the same, and that we cannot survive without one another._

Trials: Outstanding.

 

**Sonya Ife**

Age: 43

Height: 6'5”

Weight: 225 lbs.

African / Sudanese.

_Olympian. For her country, Sonya won two silver metals, one in the 50 meter Rifle and another in the 25 meter Pistol category. Despite not bringing home golds, she is largely regarded as one of the most accurate shooters in recent history from long range and short range, and has competed in multiple tournaments across the world specializing in sniping. Additionally, she is the first transgendered woman from her country to win a medal in the shooting category, and people largely look upon her as an icon of hope, freedom, and peace, all ideals which she holds close to her at all times. During trials, Sonya demonstrated an outstanding capability not only with her weapons, but to be able to command her team effectively from a remote distance, taking each of their strengths into account effectively, and rallying her team towards success._

Trials: Outstanding.

 

All of them were outstanding people. All remarkable for different things, like _most_ heroes, and most of the people in Overwatch, Gabe thought. His eyes shifted to the door, and then over to Jack, who was sipping on coffee- the same flavor they'd had for weeks now. To Gabe, it was starting to taste like sawdust in a cup. His wounds had long since healed over, and Jaelen had been sent on another two missions... None in Australia, much to her relief. Gabriel meanwhile? Grounded, not as a punishment, but a precaution. If Moira was alive, they needed to know how, and where she was now.

This was Gabriel's fight. Everyone agreed to that. Everyone agreed that _he_ should be the one to spearhead that front, and so far, no one had stood in his way. But, until they knew where she was and what she was doing, it wasn't safe for him to go out into open missions like that one had been. News about Junkertown had spread, but as of yet, no one knew if Junkertown's Queen, herself, still lived. But the city- if one could even call it that- was on lockdown- no one in, or out. Overwatch had made no attempt to go back there yet, though they desired to confirm Talon's involvement there, no one even knew if there was someone to talk to, if they would talk, or if it even _mattered_ now that Junkertown was half gone. But, if Talon agreed to help them rebuild, that city could still be used to great effect...

But then, so could Overwatch, Gabe thought as he sat there, waiting for Winston.

 

Finally, the Strike Commander arrived, and Gabriel slid the files across the table. “Our picks for new Captains, Commander. Any news?”

“Nothing beyond what we already knew. Lynx was given his own quarter's today. Torbjorn's daughter was assigned to Torb's detail as part of his engineering crew. How do these Captain's look?” he asked, opening the first of the files, and beginning to work through them. “I saw a few of their trials myself but-”

“Best of the best, Sir,” Jack replied proudly. “Strong people for powerful positions. They're fighters with peace in mind. Fighters who want to help end this war.”

“Air force, a wrestler, jujitsu?” Surprise colored the Commander's eyes as he moved on, “A peace warrior and a Legend. This is a powerful roster indeed...”

“You're scheduled to meet them tomorrow, Sir,” Jack replied. “And they are more than just their titles. All of these fighters proved impeccable in their fields. Nick's team worked like a machine during the trials, and Hudson actually turned one of our light turrets against the others by using his team to trick the sensors. Faye moved so fast that she was able to disable two of the turrets before they could even hurt her team, giving them a distinct upper hand. Aero was... Surprisingly personable, considering what we are used to seeing out of Omnics of his make. Many like him have sided with the Conclave during this fight. He insists he is a follower of Mondatta, and wants to bring peace to both omnics and humans. He's fast, strong, and has had himself personally modified with healing technology to help his team. They got through purely because they _couldn't_ be downed to what we were throwing at them. Sonya, meanwhile? She didn't even need to enter the arena. She directed everyone via comm devices, and took down multiple targets from range, fast-paced. Moreover, for her history, she's something of an icon that people to look up to. The exact sort of face we need for Overwatch right now.”

“Impressive. I look forward to meeting them, then. For now? Good job, Gentlemen. I'm sending you two on a new mission.”

“ _Finally_ ,” Gabriel groans with a sigh, quieting shortly there after for the scolding look Winston gives him. “Where to?” Gabe asks.

“Back to the forest, where you uncovered Moira's stash last time. We have reason to believe that she may have been back there, and if she has, there may be hints as to where she's gone. She has probably removed any more evidence from the area, if she had any left over. Either way, if anything has disturbed the area, we need to know.”

“The area has been blocked off since we found the last evidence-” Jack offers, but Gabe shrugs.

“I wouldn't put it past her to get in if she really wanted to, especially if the Vishkar were helping her-”

 

Gabriel pauses with what he's just said, and Jack notices.

“What is it?” He asks, and Gabe glances over at him, then back to Winston.

“The Vishkar is still under investigation, isn't it?”

“Yes of course, why?”

“Because I think I may have just figured out how Moira survived.”

“... You think they got her out?”

“Her... Or _them_ , Jack?”

“What do you-”

 

“No one ever found the Gauntlet, Jack. No one ever found Akande's body, or Moira's... One of the Vishkar must have been there. I didn't see anyone else, and I don't know how, but they must have been there... They must have teleported out.”

“Sanjay's actions have been monitored now for some time,” Winston countered.

“Were they being monitored at the time of the explosion?”

“... I can't say. I don't know the full extent of the UN's investigation into him. I know that the corporation is now more or less on its last legs. They have been investigating everyone within the company for months now, working their way down the ladder. Many from the company have already been let go.”

“I see. That may be something they need to consider, then. We need to correlate this information with them,” Gabe offers.

“I'll pass along everything I can to them, of course.”

“Sir, you said, _you two_. Are we going on this mission together?”

“Yes, because you two knew that base better than anyone else here. Sending a larger group means a larger ship... More of a chance of being detected. This is a surveillance mission _only_. I don't anticipate any resistance, or anyone of any kind, since the place has been quarantined, as I said. But, I can't risk sending either of you alone. So you'll go together.”

“ _Romantic_ ,” Gabe snorts, and Jack elbows him, causing Gabe to laugh shortly.

“No _nonsense,_ Gentlemen. This is a mission. I trust you to stick to the mission,” Winston warns, and Gabe chuckles again.

“Don't worry, _Commander_. We'll get it done.”

 

After the Commander had left, files in hand, Jack and Gabe share a small, moment of teasing, before Gabe finally goads the man back towards his room, looking for a good time, both trying to disguise the worries running through their heads.

 

What was waiting for them back at the old base, besides a ton of snow and faded memories?

 

Were they _ready_ to be back in that place together?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, guys! I'm sorry this chapter isn't beefier, and not on time, but I really wanted to have a chapter out before the holidays for you guys, and I will be making every attempt to have another one for you too, before Christmas.
> 
> As always, thanks for being understanding of my prohibitive health conditions, and thank you for reading! I understand that this chapter is a bit more dialogue than action, but I hope it's enjoyable all the same.
> 
> Because of the dumpster fire that has become Tumblr, I have moved my Haunted/Forsaken notifications to my new Twitter.  
> Follow me here for regular updates!
> 
> https://twitter.com/Trishields
> 
> Thanks again. Want to join our discord? Message me and ask for a link!


	10. Heat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings:  
> Heavy Smut. Merry Christmas you thirsty reapphiliacs. <3

It's just as cold here as it was the last time Gabriel came lurking for evidence. There's enough snow on the ground to convince him that it never quite melted from last year, but he knows better. His memories tell him so, in flashes of warmth and heat, dancing across Jack's skin with his fingertips, from when they were so much younger than now.

Jack can almost see the thoughts in Gabe's chestnut eyes as the ship lands. His pulse rifle is slung over his back, his warmer, white gear pulled close about his form. The ship's engines put off enough heat to melt the snow in the immediate vicinity, causing a cloud of steam that rolls up around them as they disembark. Jack's visor tells him all he needs to know about the place- totally vacant. They aren't far from the old base, a quarter mile perhaps, but this was the closest they could safely land in this weather, so the two had a small walk ahead of them, but the snow would make it seem longer.

“Not quite like I remember,” Jack says, glancing towards Gabriel, whose mask has come on, hiding away his emotions again.

“Not quite. Not for you, I'd guess. No different from the last time I was here. It doesn't look like anyone's been in this forest, but we should look around.” The wraith's rasping voice puts off slightly less of a cloud than Jack's does, but that was to be expected. Where Jack trudges through the snow, Gabe seems to ghost between outcroppings of wood and stone that still wish to make themselves known, easily getting ahead... But the main waits just long enough to keep an eye on the old soldier, letting him catch up.

“Didn't used to be such a climb,” Jack says, huffing slightly as they reach the top of a hill.

“Didn't use to look like this,” Gabe replies somewhat sadly, and his head gestures ahead. It's still a ways off, but Jack can see it. The old base. The _first_ base they called home for such a short while before they made their home in Switzerland. The base itself had withered with the ages, without anyone to look after it, the buildings had become ruins. Yet, every indication that this base had once belonged to Overwatch had been removed- who knew by whom. The insignias over doorways had been wrenched free. “There used to be people in it,” the ghost continues, as if he was one of the souls trapped in this place. “And lights. Hot coco. Somewhere underneath, a place where the _bad guys_ lived.” He laughs, dryly, clearly meaning himself... And most of Blackwatch, apparently. Jack smirks faintly.

“They weren't all bad, Gabriel. Confused, maybe. In pain-”

“Come on, Jackie,” Gabe interrupts. He doesn't want any more excuses made for what he did, or who he became under the eaves of this place. Jack's smile fades some, and he paces after the man who has moved along, now solid, trudging heavy boots through the snow until they reach the center of the ruins. There ahead of them sat what remained of the office they both shared at separate times, and the windows that overlooked the courtyard within which they both now stood. The windows had busted out, most of them, and Jack could see dangling ice where the sun had melted just enough snow to make daggers out of the snow, reaching from the height of the building downward. “The last time I was here, I couldn't get into the Underwing... Damage has blocked it all off. I don't think Moira could have gotten in, but if she has, there will be signs. We should check there first. And if not there, we should see if the den she hid all of her work in before has been touched.” And yet... Gabriel was reluctant to go back there... Not because he thought Moira had been there, but because he had not told anyone _specifically_ where the hatch had been, or the significance of that place. Only Jack would know the sacred nature of that place... And naturally, Jack would want to know how, or why Moira knew about it... At least, enough to make it her hidden cache. He would probably be upset to know she had tainted it with her dark science... Her very _presence_ more like. To anyone else? It was just an empty, insignificant clearing in the forest. That was why he would go there last.

Jack had other ideas.

“Wouldn't it make sense to go there first, Gabe? Its the last place we have evidence of her being, or using to store her murder weapons... So to speak.”

“By now, Moira will have come back to check on this location, or else she is already aware that we have been here and are investigating the area... She would have to be an utter moron to keep using it, Jack, and foolish still just to come back here.”

“Maybe that's why she's using it,” Jack prompted. “She knows that _we_ know she's smarter than that. She might be using it just to throw us off guard.”

“ _Or_ she's just using a new location _altogether_ to avoid any chance of us knowing where it is,” Gabe uttered.

“But someone would have seen her, tracked her to a new location, wouldn't they?”

“It's been months since the attack, and we now think she's alive, Jack, yet _no one_ has seen or heard of her. She isn't hard to find. She's like me, you know?”

“What do you mean- like you?” Jack's obliviousness to Moira's capabilities makes Gabe sigh somewhat.

“Before she experimented on me, she experimented on herself. She has abilities you've never even seen- and may _never_ see, if she keeps convincing Talon to fight her battles for her. Besides her ability to heal and leech like she could in Blackwatch, she has something else... Like a teleport, but not really. Not like mine. She can wraith- invisibly, for a very short time. If she wants to avoid being seen, she _can_. She just... Doesn't, usually. She doesn't like field work. Doesn't like getting her _own_ hands dirty when she can make someone else do it instead.” As the man speaks, Jack can hear each word begin to drip with more and more disdain, each syllable laced with a new level of loathing that he hasn't heard before.

“Okay, Gabe. I think we should still check it out-”

“ _Fine,_ ” Reaper hisses, admitting defeat finally. If he wanted to go see that place... So be it. So Gabriel turned and lead the way, headed out of the ruins.

“Where are you going?”

“To the hatch. Where else? You coming?” The ghosts disdain is obvious, and for a moment Jack seriously questions going with him... There's something about this part, specifically, that Gabriel doesn't like, even if he isn't being forthcoming.

 

But as he walks, the place starts to become more familiar.

 

Each tree they pass feels a little closer to home than it should, or than it would for anyone... Else.

“Where are we going, Reaper?” Jack asks, trying to pull the ghost out of his memories. “Gabriel?”

But Gabe does not reply, merely trudges on, and there is a pit in Jack's stomach that grows heavy. He feels his feet start to grow heavy with each step, much like his heart. A dozen memories start flying back to him.

 

~

 

“Mi Sol,” Gabe's voice is a warm, welcome thing. It's soft, and so unlike the Soldier that Jack knows him to be. He can feel the man's lips on his, and the heat of his skin. The shade of autumn falls over them, and another leaf drifts down from the canopy above, landing on Jack's boot. Warm fingertips trace just beneath the hemline of his dark, fitted t-shirt.

“What's that?” Jack asks, a blush rising to his cheeks, totally captivated by the Commander, days after their defeat of the omnics. They both still have a few bruises and healing wounds, but they don't care. Gabe's other hand slides through his golden hair, like honey, he thinks, looking down at the blue-eyed wonder that was Jack Morrison- that little _prick_ from SEP who had captured his heart, somehow.

“It means my sun, but... I mean, I guess it's more like, _my Sunshine._ ”

“ _Oh Christ, Gabe._ That's so cheesy and cliché.” Jack snorts, looking away, and Gabe laughs.

“Don't be an ass, Morrison.” He uses his last name when he likes to pretend he's pulling rank.

The blond looks away again, eyes rolling with the sappy sentiment. “You don't even speak Spanish.”

“ _Just because_ you don't hear me say it much doesn't mean I don't _speak it_.”

“You talk to Rosa in English too, Gabe.”

“YEAH well, we can't _all_ be perfect,” he snorts indignantly to the blond. “ _Show me to be romantic with you, why don't you._ ” The fingers leave the hem of his shirt and Gabe's moving to stand, but Jack reaches up, snatching his wrist.

“Don't you _dare_ leave after calling me your _Sunshine,_ you coward,” He teases. Gabriel looks down at him and laughs, smiling one of those dark little smirks before he leans in and pulls the man into a deep kiss.

“ _I'm not going anywhere, pendejo,_ ” the man purrs against his lips, powerful arms pull him into an embrace, pulling him close. Lips tease kisses across his neck before they find his ear, tickling it with words. “ _You are the light of my life. Without you, I am nothing but darkness._ ”

Jack would never forget those words, in light of all that had happened afterwards, with the worsening of Gabriel's nightmares, and the hiring of Moira, and all that she had done to him afterwards.

 

~

 

Jack feels his emotions overcoming him as they reach the edge of the clearing. That was so long ago, and there wasn't three feet of snow like there was now. It wasn't bitter cold then like it was now. Gabriel wasn't Reaper then. At least, not in true form. Sure, Gabe had always had his... Questionable moments, but he wasn't... Like he was now- a dark figure standing at the edge of the clearing, cold, almost unfeeling, pushing away what he wanted to say about this place, and what Moira had done to it. But Gabriel had stopped walking. Jack stares at him in disbelief.

“It's... Here? The hatch is here, Gabriel?”

Unable to reply simply, Reaper moves over to where he remembers the hatch to be, and it's only a few kicks with his boot to brush the snow clean before the sole resounds with a metal thunk. Jack looks down to it, then back to Gabe, whose mask is as unreadable as ever.

“She knew this place was significant to you. To us. How, Gabriel?” His voice was more serious.

“... They poisoned me against you, Jack. They told me you had used me, betrayed me. That, you were-”

“I get it. Tell me how she knew about _this_.” There is a sharpness to his tone that makes Gabe wince.

“I _knew_ you wouldn't like it... I told her, Jackie. I told her everything. She knew about you and me- us. The bedroom situation. She knew about our fights, my nightmares. She insisted that knowing everything about my life was going to be the only way she could help me.”

“So you told her about _this_ place?”

“ _I_ told her that we sometimes came here to hide away when we didn't want other people around. I told her when we stopped coming. She was monitoring our relationship through me, Jack. I- I didn't know. I'm _sorry._ ”

Jack wants to feel upset. Betrayed. But he can't. All he can feel is rage. Rage at that _woman,_ if anyone could call her anything beyond a monster. She had taken this from them. She had scarred this place. The image from the forest back in their rooms that they kept in their quarters, it was of this place, but never _specifically_ this exact spot. This had, itself, been a secret only to them... Which meant that...

“You had shown her this place. Lead her here-”

What _else_ had she done with Gabriel?

 

Gabe could see the uncertainty in the man's eyes before his lips even spoke, even behind the mask, and he felt his eyes widen.

“What...? NO! Jack! It was _never_ like that with us- with her and _I. It never was._ ”

“Why did you show her this place, then? Why didn't you tell me that she knew, or when you found the hatch here? Did you know she built this here? Is it how you found it the first time? And if not, why did you come back here?”

“Jack! Stop!” Reaper moves over to him, a hand on either shoulder. “ _Stop_ ” He whispers. “It isn't like that and it never was. It never was. I swear it. She demanded to see this place, because she felt like... She said, if you betrayed me, that she and I should have someplace to meet. I was suppose to meet her here... After the explosion. This is where she was suppose to pick me up... But I didn't, Jack. I said _no, to myself._ At the last moment, when I saw you and you begged me. When you looked at me and you got through to me, right as those bombs went off... I made my choice, Jack. I chose you.”

Jack has become unbearably quiet, listening to Gabe defend himself.

“For a long time I didn't even remember that she knew... But when I came back out here last year to look for the evidence, I thought... I thought about you, and me, and I found this place. I let me feet take me where they wanted to go, and it was _here_ , Jack. I found the hatch by accident. It wasn't until later that I even realized I was the one who showed her this place. No, I had no idea she had built anything here. I had no idea. I came back to this place... Just to remember you. To remember us. When I realized I had done it, it was so long in the past, so far irrelevant that I didn't figure it would matter, or worse, it would do nothing but cause pain over a thing that you didn't need. I wanted you to remember this place as it _was_ for what it _was._ ”

And Jack... Understood. It hurt, but Gabriel was right. Nothing good could have come of him disclosing this _specific_ detail to Jack, especially since he couldn't really have anticipated being sent back here, let alone with Jack, to investigate. Still, the idea that Moira _could_ have twisted Gabriel in some kind of sexual way to her satisfaction disgusted and enraged him. That she had defiled this place that meant so much to him set his blood on fire.

Gabe seemed to sense this, and let his frame sink forward a bit more, his head tilting forward so that he could tip his mask against Jack's cowled forehead just slightly.

“Moira needs to die, Gabriel.” The Soldier's voice was rough, and brutal, decidedly unheroic for once, in a way that almost made Gabe shudder.

 

“... She will, Jack. I promise. I'll find a way.”

 

Jack took one last look at the area before moving towards the hatch and leaning over, shoving the rest of the snow away from the door and jerking it open. The air that rushed out of it was frigid and stale. A quick inspection by flashlight revealed that the hold was entirely empty. Moira hadn't been here, just as Gabe had said she probably wouldn't.

 

The two turned away from that place and headed at once back towards the ruins in quiet so deep that it made the crunching of each footstep sound loud by comparison. The walk back somehow felt colder, like all of the heat that Gabriel had been lovingly leeching from Jack had been staved off by pure rage. The wraith let him take the lead, and the Soldier seemed keen on avoiding the memorable main office, as of yet. Instead, he made his way into the smaller buildings around the base, or those that were accessible, at least. Not _everything_ had crumbled, but anything wood had rotted, and years of neglect among heat and ice had wedged large gaps in once solid concrete. Frozen metal was often all that remained of the original frames. Eventually they reached the elevator down into the Underwing, now little more than an empty, dangerous shaft that lead downward too far for anyone to safely jump. Made almost entirely of wrought iron, steel and titanium, it felt just as cold and unwelcoming as many of the people who had once used it. Or, at least a few of them. There was no evidence that anyone had tampered here- someone would have had to rappel down, and even then, there was no guarantee that the Underwing was even accessible. In all reality, it had probably collapsed under the weight of the untended years.

As the two leered over the pit, Jack reached onto his belt, preparing to set the rope to go down, but Gabriel shook his head, setting his hand on the man's shoulder.

“Don't. I can go, it's easier,” the wraith said, his voice like a whisper so as not to disturb the silence of the place. After a small glance, Jack stepped back and let Gabe into the opening. Producing a glowstick, the Soldier cracked it and handed it across to let it fall into the shaft, glowing the whole way. With the bottom now lit, several stories below, Gabe allowed the shadows to consume him, taking him there. It wasn't the ground, obviously, but the roof of the elevator, which had apparently fallen at some point and crushed itself with the weight of the crash. There was a door into the Underwing, closed as it probably had been the other time. Gabriel could not pry it open himself- in all likelihood, the cold of this place had engaged the lockdown mechanics that made the underground a sealed bunker, more or less, and this was the only way in.

“No one's been this way, Jack,” Gabe says, glancing back up the shaft towards Jack, who's visor is all he can see in this relative darkness.

“You're sure no one could have gotten in? There's no other way?”

“No way that I'm aware of,” which was saying something, considering Gabriel had a hand in deciding how the place was designed. It was his old domain, after all. “Besides, the UN has kept this place on lockdown ever since we found her evidence here. They'd have to go through a hell of a lot to get back in if they really wanted to. There's no evidence of tampering... We'd have noticed if anyone drilled in from the outside.” Gabriel had teleported back to the top of the shaft now, glowstick in hand, watching Jack as the man spoke.

“No one noticed Moira make a hatch-”

“No one was looking when she made it, Jack.”

“What's to say they haven't been using this place for longer?”

Gabriel sighs, struggling to know why Jack is being so _paranoid._

“ _I was with them, Jack. I'd still remember if we came here._ This place was never even mentioned.”

“Of course it wasn't. She didn't want you to remember this place, Gabriel. They kept everything from you. If she's used this place before- is it unlike Moira to go off on her own and do her own things within Talon?”

“...Well no, but that is exactly why Akande doesn't trust her. They don't have a lot of allies left. I don't know as she'd be dumb enough to go off on her own _now_.”

“I still think we should check. Do a thorough search. More people than just us. Clear all this away. Find everything-”

It's at this point that Gabe realizes Jack is simply stalling. He's looking for an excuse to avoid going in the old office building whilst still looking like he's doing his job. Beneath his mask, Gabriel smirks faintly.

“I'll send Sombra over with a detail once we're done here, Jack.” His tone is deep and final, and for a moment, Jack forgets that Gabriel is no longer his superior. For just the briefest of moments, he's back in those old quarters of SEP, wrapped up dangerously with the powerful man who was his captain. There had always been an authority about the man's voice that he had enjoyed, and even now, even now with the way that Moira's poison had twisted that voice, he felt himself drawn to it. There was something about its echoing nature that made the man seem more than human- and he was- but Jack was ashamed to admit it. He shouldn't like it, just like he shouldn't like the extra arms, and the choking smoke that wafted off of him... And yet he did. He could barely get enough of it.

Gabriel cleared his throat, forcing the Soldier out of his momentary daydream, and he watched as the man left the room, and followed after. They crossed back through the courtyard towards the building Jack was dreading, if only because of how many memories he had in that place, too.

The door was still intact somehow, but it didn't quite lock the way it used to, and Gabe had no trouble pushing it open. When he did, it was almost as though a seal had been broken, and inside? It was... Well, not warm exactly, but not frigid.

“Hurry up, boyscout, I'm not holding this door all day,” Reaper growled towards him, and the Soldier headed inside quickly, and the door shut behind them, locking away the cold once more. The glowstick in Gabriel's hand was set down on a nearby table, whose finish was curling away from the surface. For a long moment the two said nothing to each other, letting their eyes soak in what little they could. With each step further in, a memory fled back to them. The floor sounded just the same as always. Jack reached into his jacket and pulling out two more lights. These were standing devices that could sit on the ground and provide light, like road flares without the flame. Plenty of heat, however. As he switched them on, the room was revealed to them. As it always had been, the office was a large building with a somewhat vaulted ceiling, windows on both ends, and a second level that was more or less just a balcony to overlook the courtyard and grounds. Shelves on both sides had been emptied long ago, but there was a layer of dust and a familiar old scent that neither of them could place exactly. As they stepped along the sides of the room, eventually, they met up again at the front of it- where the desk was. The desk, once an immaculate thing of craft, was now chipped and broken on one end- still standing, but seemingly at the cost of everything around it. There was no seat for it anymore, and the drawers were missing, looted perhaps, or removed by the UN, who knew exactly.

Yet here they were, staring at the desk, this ancient point of contention.

And pride, to some extent.

 

“We built this place, Gabe... This was where it all started, isn't it?”

Reaper looks up from the desk to Jack, who is transfixed by staring at it.

“That's a romantic sentiment, Jack. Not getting sappy on me, are you?” Jack's only reply is a scoff, and he sets down the lights on either side of the desk, removing a glove then so that he can touch the raw wood for the first time in forever. Gabriel slides closer, eyes shifting towards the door before landing back on Jack. “But you're wrong, you know.”

“Hmm?” Jack asks, mind lost. He doesn't even notice Gabriel lifting a hand to his face to pull his mask away. As the red-orange lights warm the area, it doesn't feel so bad to relax a little here.

“It didn't start here, Jack. Overwatch did, but not us. Not this.” As Jack's mind goes over and over the quarrels they had here, Gabe's mind is elsewhere...

 

On that stupid kiss... In the rain, out on the catwalks of the SEP installation, doing night rounds of the base on guard duty. The veiled moments of desire between the two of them, and the way they tried so hard to avoid it entirely, to tell themselves it wasn't allowed, safe, or even real. The small glimpses they took at one another, the power play between them, and the way Jack simply couldn't stop wanting more.

It took the Soldier a long moment to realize the way Reaper was looking at him, and when he did, he finally reached up to pull away his own visor. His breath still carried a small cloud with it, but it wasn't anything that a natural Hoosier couldn't handle- he'd been in worse as a boy, working odd hours on his grandparents distant ranch that they sent him to a few months every year, especially when they were too old to tend it themselves.

He wasn't getting any younger himself, but the way that Reyes looked at him made him wish he was. There was a hunger in the wraith's eyes, captivating and deep, like a demon. Yet, it wasn't the red flecks in his eyes that gave him that look. Gabriel had always looked this way. He'd always made Jack feel powerless in his stare, and even now, he could feel his composure slipping away.

“Gabe...”

“ _Yes, Jackie?_ ”

“Don't do that-”

“ _Do what?_ ”

“Don't-”

A laugh rolls out of reaper and he leans forward, pressing a sudden, aggressive kiss against the man's lips, stealing it like a criminal. The Soldier groans, kissing back, but he turns his head away, struggling, trying to make it stop. It needs to, he tells himself, because they're on a job, but his body says otherwise. As his head turns away, for Gabriel this is just an invitation to have his neck instead, and he does, lips and teeth latching onto the fabric and pulling it down just so that he can taste the man's skin instead. In a needy sort of way, he growls a purr into the flesh, wanting to leave a mark. He moves Jack's hips against the desk with a thunk, taking up the space in front of him so that the two are chest to chest, one arm wrapped around the small of the Soldier's back to tug him close. Common sense has gone out the window at the moment.

“We _shouldn't_. We can't- _Gabe-_ ”

“ _Shouldn't,_ ” Reaper mocks. “There's a lot of things we _shouldn't_ have done... But we _can_. _I want to, Jackie..._ ” He almost sounded like he was asking nicely.

“It's _cold_ , Gabe-!”

“Not right _here_ it isn't. You're not. You're warm-”

“Gabriel!”

“ _Fine_.” Reaper growls, finally pushing a hand to the desk and pushing himself up. He turns away in a huff, dragging his mask off the surface and reaching up to put his cowl back up. Jack watches him, panting as he pulls back up the edge of his collar, feeling a trace of Gabe's teeth still there, the slight sting, the saliva, however little there was. There is a familiar ache in his groin where his already excited length presses against his belt and zipper. _Fuck._ Goddamnit, Gabriel!

Jack reaches out, abruptly grabbing the man by his arm, and yanking him back. The wraith returns at the first tug, groaning into the abrupt kiss that takes them. Jack ignores his common sense for the time being. They had arrived alone all except for a single pilot for the ship they had arrived in, and they were content to wait while Gabe and Jack did their... Investigating.

The lights were warm enough, just as the ghost had said, to make this passably comfortable, and there was so much going through their heads that it was hard to ignore the vision of who they used to be. Reaper wants more- he wants it never to end, and Jack regrets all the years they lost together. Jack's hands flee to the man's chest, and he can feel the swell of muscle even beneath the armor, and he finds himself panting again. His hands drop, and as Gabriel kisses him, he jerks the glove off of his other hand and tucks his fingers into the hem of the other's trousers, pulling him close. A second later, Gabriel has lifted him onto the desk entirely so that his feet are free to wrap loosely around his calves, pulling their hips flush. A quick grind tells Jack all he needs to know about how much Reaper wants him. Once again, teeth have found his neck, shoving down the turtleneck to expose the flesh, and the more Jack grinds, the harder Gabriel bites. It's a delicate balance between pleasure and pain that absolutely transfixes him. Before he can stop himself, his hands are undoing the clasps and mechanisms of Gabriel's pants and armor, pushing the zipper down, exposing him. The second his fingertips trace against the tender organ, the teeth in his neck release him, exhaling almost bestially into the open air just over Jack's shoulder, a gasp of want. Gabriel can barely remember the last time he wanted Jack this badly. In his mind, it feels like a bloodlust, despite that he knows better. The warrior's battle-worn skin feels delightful against the sensitive nerves along his length. His eyes meet Jack's wanting blue stare, and they kiss again, deeply, allowing the heat of one another's breath to intermingle like a small crown of steam around their heads.

Gabriel shifts back, trying to catch his breath, and as he does, Jack takes the lead, a hand pressing to his side and pushing him. They trade places, and Gabe soon finds his back pressed to the desk with a huff, incidentally throwing one of the lights off of the desk and onto the floor beside, but neither of the two move to retrieve it. Before Gabriel can even properly reorient himself, the Soldier has moved, and that hot breath from seconds prior has made its way far more south, bathing over the little bit of exposed flesh that he had. Jack tugs the pants down a little more, just barely enough to be more comfortable for Gabe without sacrificing too much heat.

Gabriel's terrified that someone might have heard the next sound he makes as familiar lips and tongue take him in. His head falls back with that loud, crooning groan, elbows propping him up as his head hangs from his shoulders. The man's chest rises and falls with each heavy breath, trying to keep it together in light of what Jack has started doing to him.

_That Jack was doing anything to him at all, after all these years, the Soldier still couldn't resist._

Making an effort to keep himself quiet, the wraith bites down on his lower lip and lets the man continue. Heat slides down over his length with the gentle caress of lips and tongue, exciting a heavy throb out of him each time his tip touches the back of the man's throat. They know they don't have a lot of time to do this, but... They didn't exactly have a time limit either. The occasional gust of cold air that swept in from cracks in the infrastructure kept them from falling too much into their lust- at least moreso than they already had. But Jack revealed soon after that he wasn't doing this _just for Gabriel._ As soon as the man's cock was slick and ready, the Soldier shifted, and from his perspective, Gabe could hear and see the man turn away, and heard the fumbling sound of his belts and his own pants. Jack let out a hiss as the first of the cold air touched against comparatively hot skin as he shoved his pants down just to the top of his thighs.

“ _What are you-_ ” Reaper started, only to suddenly have the man climbing into his lap, shoving Gabriel further back on the desk and poising himself over the lifted, aching cock beneath. From here, all Gabriel could see was the muscle of Jack's ass and the soles of his boots as the Soldier mounted over him, facing away. Then, he was dropping, using a hand to position Gabriel the way he needed to to ride properly. As soon as the heat of the man swallowed up the tip of him, it was all Reaper could do not to moan, loudly, into the open, empty room. Jack's voice was just as strained and hungry. His hips dropped further, and further still until they were flesh to flesh. Though he was still mostly covered in armor, Gabe could feel the goosebumps crawl across his skin like a wildfire across dry brush. Immediately, he resisted the urge to buck up into the man, instead, allowing Jack to choose his pace. The painful memories in the Soldier's mind had faded for now in favor of the far more sensual, pleasurable sort, not that he had ever expected to be here again, let alone with Reaper of all people, doing _this_ , on _this_ desk. They had defiled it a few times during their stint together in Overwatch, but this? With the snow, the red light and warmth of the tactical lights nearby, the heat of their breath on the air... This was new. New, and not at all unfavorable.

Of course, he was sure that if they'd had a medic on board at all, they'd see the raise in their heart rates and show some concern... But it seemed luck was on their side that they didn't. It was only a few minutes before both men gasped a pleasurable moan with each breath, and the desk beneath them began to creak and whine with protest. It wasn't as strong as it used to be, and seriously threatened to break under the weight of the two super soldiers... Yet somehow held out long enough for Jack to get Gabriel to his peak, and shortly there after, when he got his own. But to avoid the mess, Gabriel latched onto the man's hips with his talons to prevent him from leaving.

“ _Not yet,_ ” he rumbled, panted breaths rolling past his lips as he held the Soldier firm, letting each drop of him spill into the other as he curled upright. Gabriel couldn't help himself. Having Jack in his lap like this, in this place, was a small fantasy he had never known he wanted until just now. His head craned forward, pressing several intimate kisses against the back of the man's neck, his arms coming around his chest in an embrace. Jack smiled and blushed slightly.

“You're getting sentimental on me again, Gabe.”

“Look at this place, Jack. Look where we are. It's _snowing_. You used to love Christmas here.”

“It isn't Christmas _yet_...”

“ _Who says?_ ” Gabe asked darkly, suddenly biting into the man's neck and making him cry out, before he blushed again. Finally, Gabe let him go, and the Soldier pushed himself up and off, buttoning up. Luckily, his own mess had landed on the floor some feet away from the desk, easily ignored for the sake of locking out the cold now that the adrenaline and heat had begun to drop back to normal in his system. The wraith buttoned up too, watching as Jack started to wander off, putting his visor back on.

“Jack,” he called to the man, as he still stood at the desk.

“Hm?” The Soldier asked, turning to look back at the ghost. The look in Gabe's eyes was.. regrettable. Sad.

“I love you, Jack. I'm sorry I ruined this place for us.”

For a long moment, the man was quiet, and he looked down. Eventually, his head shook.

“You didn't. She did. I pressured you to get help- and I didn't care. I was too blind to see what she was doing to you, Gabe. I let you down. You trained me to be a leader... But I was too scared to face the real problems. It was easier letting you make the hard decisions. This place... This place failed because of me.” Then, he had turned and walked away, leaving Gabriel the opportunity to say nothing. He followed behind quickly, mask sliding on.

Until now, he hadn't seen Jack show a whole lot of shame for what had happened. He'd seen some, sure, but it was rarely revealed. What was done was done- that was the attitude between them, and it didn't do well to dwell on the past. They had come so far passed all of that, anyway, and they had paid for their crimes in droves. The only one who hadn't? Moira. _However_ she had survived, Gabe would see to it that she paid her price in full, perhaps _with interest_ for the pain she had caused, sooner rather than later.

 

Gabe wasn't going to let his sweet memories of this place wither and crumble like this real world location had become. She had tainted this place with her black science. She had taken years of memories from them that they might have made here. How many Christmases had she stolen with her greed and her need to pursue the boundaries of possibility?

 

They finished their inspection of the grounds without incident. No one had been here or tampered with anything as far as they could tell. It would seem that the UN lockdown of the area had been effective. He had no doubt that they'd done some investigation of their own, but probably uncovered just as little. As promised, Gabe would assign Sombra to do a thorough sweep later with all of her gadgets and scanners.

The ride home was significantly more comfortable, however, with the two men wrapped up in each other's arms for most of the trip, their lust hot on the trails of the tryst they had just finished. It was nearing the holiday, and though neither of the two were especially religious, the holidays had always been a time of coming together for them, for each other, for family... For _giving,_ and enjoying each other. The pilot was oblivious in the cockpit, and they were content to keep kissing until they arrived home hours later.

 

Home, they discovered, was in full swing of the upcoming holidays. As last year, the envirodomes had been modified, allowing for snow, and all the play there in. Already, scientists and lab assistants were making scientifically flawless snowmen, and the engineers were doing just about anything they could with the snow, from flavored snow cones to multi-person sleds that were rocket propelled. One might argue that it wasn't safe, but everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves.

“Seems like we're missing a party,” Gabe uttered as he and Jack stood at the ship's open door, still dressed in full tactical gear. In the hangar bay, room had been cleared and an ice skating rink had been set up. The DJ, Lucio, was already trying to give lessons. Reinhardt wasn't very good at it. The creepy researcher from the science lab was using her modified hair dryer to place very real looking icicles to archways and railings- the wraith spotted one of the _critters_ with her- it had clearly become something of a pet to the corner of the Overwatch base. From across the hangar, a hat tipped in their direction, and Gabe's eyes widened- Jesse was back! It had been months since he'd properly seen the man, and he'd barely even heard from him.

“Jesse,” Gabe utters before ghosting away from Jack, who is left at the door of the ship. He only steps out when it begins to close, and he meanders closer. Gabriel embraces Jesse in a warm hug.

“Fresh off the mission, boss? You look like hell,” the banter was welcome, really.

“Looks like you didn't get yourself cut to pieces, _either_ ,” Gabe muses as he looks Jesse over. It's clear that the gunslinger has been through a lot in the last few months, but his lips are locked as to what's happened, at least at the moment. That mission was still largely being overseen by Winston himself.

“Yeah well. Figured I'd turn in for the holiday I guess. Gettin' real sick of sushi if I'm totally honest-”

“There you are-” Another familiar voice, and Gabriel is suddenly nudged by a figure at his side. “Decided not run back to California for the holidays eh, Gabi?” Jaelen's a welcome sight to see, and he laughs gently at her, shaking his head. He couldn't tell her exactly where they had gone- but it wasn't California, as much as he might have enjoyed revisiting some of the old haunts from when he was a kid. The truth was that he had no reason to go back there anymore. Rosa wasn't even in the state anymore, and he was estranged from anyone else he might have known there.

Jack had finally arrived back at his side, his eyes roaming the room. All the lights had been shifted in hues of white and blue and gold. Occasionally, red and green flashes would punctuate the area, seeming to match an upbeat holiday song that had come on. Christmas wasn't for a few days yet, but that hadn't seemed to stop anyone. Even Shimada was here, teaching people fancy tricks they could do with a sword, or cutting out paper snowflakes that looked surprisingly un-snowflake like. Zarya was pinning down a whole group of her soldiers in a snowball fight that looked more like a training session than it did a good time.

In a corner, a large buffet had been set up, and all kinds of food from any number of cultures had been collected there. Jack spotted the Amari's sitting contentedly by, watching and idly talking to teach other and anyone else who stopped by. The Soldier made his way over to them, and the elder of the two women looked up at him with a smirk. “Well well. Look what the wind blew in. You look frostbitten, Jack.”

“I could use some of that coffee-” he started, only to then have a hand clapped on his shoulder. Jesse and Gabriel had rejoined him, and Jesse was pushing something into his hands- a small bottle of whiskey, the gift kind that were usually stuffed into stockings.

“This'll help. Trust me. You two should get changed. Ain't anyone going to want photos of you dressed up like that.”

“ _You're_ one to talk,” Reaper rumbled back at the cowboy, who snorted.

“Go on,” Ana said, deftly snatching the alcohol from Jack- one had to wonder if it was to keep it from him, or if she was just taking it for herself. The small knowing smile she kept made it hard to know for sure. It would seem that whatever animosity Ana had about Fareeha being in Overwatch had dissipated, at least for the moment.

“Don't be rude, _mama_ ,” Pharah teases, rolling her eyes and looking back at the two. “It's good to see you two again- Jack, Gabe... _Jesse_ and I have been getting reacquainted.” Her tone carries a level of playfulness to it, and the gunslinger sighs at her, head canting.

“She thinks she can take me in a fight without that fancy suit of hers-”

“I _can_ and I _will,_ Jesse. You'll see.”

“Bring it on, _Sister._ ”

Ana smirks somewhat. Things felt almost entirely back to normal- the old family they used to have, except Pharah was a lot younger then. Wiry, and difficult to control.

Come to think of it, she hadn't really changed much. In her heart, Fareeha still seemed like a child, at least to Gabriel. Somehow, through the combat she had been in, her spirit endured. Gabriel and Jack hadn't been so lucky, but then, he doubted either of them had been as excited by life as she was. But had she seen how gruesome war could really get? Did she know where all of this could be leading? Gabriel wasn't sure... And he wasn't sure he wanted to know. He wanted so much to remember her as the young girl running around the base, playing with toys... Perhaps as much as Ana did. Perhaps that was _actually_ why Ana didn't want her here.

Gabriel pushed those thoughts as far away from his mind as he could, at least right now.

The two headed back to their quarters and changed, and it wasn't long before they had rejoined the party. It wasn't too long after than, when Angela finally joined it as well. She found Gabriel, Jack, Ana, Jesse and Fareeha all around a table, playing cards as if it was the _old_ days. Ana was winning, not that she would boast about it. The woman smiled one of those warm, reassuring beams that made her look like she was heaven-sent. Obviously, she was in a better mood since Genji had come back home, or so he was keen on thinking.

“Well well, look at all these legends sitting at one table. Oooh, nice hand, Jesse!” She offered up a teasing smile and the cowboy at once sheltered his cards.

“Hey now-”

Jack's smirk was not lost on Gabriel, who stared at him from across the table. Gabe had that look in his eyes that Jack had missed- dark, mischievous... And telling. Gabe _had_ a winning hand. Jack scoffed. “Fold,” He said finally, throwing his cards down, and Gabe rolled his eyes, sighing and leaning back.

“Hell,” Jesse says. He can see the signs. “I'm out too.”

Ana takes the risk and plays her hand... Only to reveal that _her_ hand is better than Gabriel's. _Shit._ Gabe curses from across the table, and Fareeha laughs.

“Well, damn,” the wraith utters, tossing down his hand and moving to stand. Angela glances towards him, and then back towards the table.

“If you don't mind, I have to pull away your CSO for a little while,” she replies, looking towards Gabriel. “Reyes, could I have a few moments with you?” Though confused, he isn't going to question it, and moves to stand, straightening his shirt as he rises.

“Whatever you say, doc. So long as you don't take me away from all the action.”

She smiled again and laughed. “Not for long.”

 

He followed Angela away from the decorated hangar and envirodomes, back into the more standard Overwatch halls and rooms. She lead back towards her office, and as they walked, he got suspicious.

“Angela, I hope you're not pulling me in for a check-up tonight... I've got alcohol in my system...”

“Oh no, no, it's nothing like that, Gabriel, I promise. I have something for you.”

 

She let them into her office and moved over to a box that she had sitting on the opposite counter, an icebox, like the kind she had sometimes carried organs in, or blood samples. The shade was expecting something like that, another test or some kind of news that revolved around what she had found.

“You sure this couldn't have waited until after Christmas?” He asked as he stuffed his hands into his pockets, head canting to the side as he watched her. She looked back at him as she opened the box.

“What? No. Of course not, Gabriel. This is my gift to you.”

“A gift, Ziegler? I'm not sure I want a gift that-”

 

Angela produced a syringe. A syringe, he noticed, full of a golden, almost glittering fluid.

 

“What is that?” He asked as he looked at it, the glow of the serum reflecting on his eyes and face, transfixed by what he was seeing. It was gorgeous, glittering, and magnificent.

 

Angela was silent for a long moment, an accomplished smile on her lips.

 

 

“ _It's your cure, Gabriel._ ”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas guys! Thank you for reading, and I hope that you guys enjoyed this chapter. Though my health still isn't under control, I really wanted to put this out before the holidays for you guys, and I will try to keep them coming as best I am able. But, if I do not see you before the new year, happy 2019 too!
> 
> I hope you all have a wonderful season.


	11. Lure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. I know it's been a while. Things with my health have been sporadic, and I have been busy working.   
> I wanted to make my months and months absence up to you by making this chapter a little more... Uhh... thicc.
> 
> I hope you enjoy. Let me know what you think.
> 
> NSFW for explicit smut.

_A cure._

 

_His cure._

 

Gabriel stared down at the syringe in both awe and disbelief. Slowly, his red-flecked eyes traced their way back to Angela, who was beaming. She was accomplished, and they both knew it as they looked at one another. He had so many questions, and yet, he hesitated to ask them.

This was it. The chance to go back. To undo the damage Moira and SEP had done to him, at least partially, or at least... Something like it, right? He could go back to being _Gabriel Reyes,_ and he could finally, _finally_ leave _Reaper_ behind him.

It was everything he had wanted.

 

Without a second's more thought, he turned towards her, and set down the cure. Incapable of helping himself, he pulled her into a sudden, presumably unexpected hug. The doctor squeaked slightly with surprise, and her brows lofted. Slowly her arms folded around him.

“A-Are you alright?” She asked, and he laughed somewhat gently, and shook his head.

“No. No, I'm better than alright,” he reassured her, looking back to the cure he had set down. “You're sure this will work?”

“This is just one dose, Gabriel. It will take a few to complete... And yes, assuming we keep to a strict schedule, it will work-”

“Can I start now?”

“Wha- uhh,” He was already reaching for the needle and she reached out to stop him. “Hold on, Gabriel- I... It isn't that simple. If you want to do this, there are procedures you have to take. I will need you to start fasting for one week before the first injections. No normal food. I need you to start starving, just a little.”

“How does it work, Doctor?” he asked, and she smiled faintly, easing up some as he relaxed. He had stepped back, and now leaned against the table to watch her. She stood just to the side, fidgeting slightly with how eager he seemed to get on with it.

“It's... Well it's... They're your nanites, Gabriel, but they've been... Altered.”

“Altered how?”

“I... I have told you how your nanites create more of themselves, overtime, which is how you are able to heal-”

“Yes?”

“These nanites do the same... Except that they _feed_ on the other nanites. Specifically, yours. However, mine do not have the sustainability that yours do. They burn far too much energy too quickly to keep going. Which means, once you are on the serum, they will systematically begin removing the nanites within your body to keep themselves alive. They lack the ability to feed from organic matter that yours have, so once your nanites are gone, all of mine will die out. You will be left entirely... Human, or as human as you were barring some of the side effects of SEP.”

“What does _that_ mean, exactly?”

“It means that you'd be like Jack. Stronger than your average man, faster, tougher... But you'll be _you_ Gabriel. You wont need to feed on others anymore. You'll have a normal lifespan... And all the illnesses that may come with it...” Her voice becomes somewhat stern. “That is why I want you to think very hard about this.” She looks down, reaching for the cure and sliding it back into the open icebox on the counter. “This isn't just... This isn't just about putting down your history, Gabriel. This won't remove the things you've done and been through. And, it will be stripping you of some of your stronger abilities- namely, abilities that have kept you alive in the past. The teleportations- the reformations... The feeding... All of that will be gone. From the smoke in your skin to the extra arms. Even your pale coloration will fade back to a more normal tone as your body adapts to being human again, Gabriel. I would not make this decision lightly. You need to think about this. _Hard._ ”

“It's what I have been wanting, isn't it?” He replies, voice almost defensive. “Isn't it what we've _all_ been wanting? The UN will be _thrilled_. I'd be surprised if they don't immediately mandate that I start it-”

“That is why I'm not telling them. Yet.”

“...You what?” he asked, floored for the moment that Angela was actually going against cooperation, for the moment. Why? His eyes spoke the question for him.

“...Gabriel... I don't want you to misunderstand. I agree that it would probably best to implement the cure.” She moves to sit on the stool nearby as she speaks, implying that it was a lengthy conversation. “The cure would make it easier for us to treat you when problems arise. We could use normal medications on you without fear of what your nanites might do with them. We could put to rest any fears of your nanites leaving your body and becoming sentient or... Self sustaining.” Gabriel felt of the weight of what he'd been keeping from her settle on his shoulders. The guilt quietly wrote itself across his features.

“Angela, there's more that's been going on that I haven't said. I wasn't really sure before my last mission but now-” Gabriel inwardly flinched. He really should have told her about this before... And she was going to be _fairly upset_ that he was only bringing this to her attention now. Immediately, the woman's features darkened- Angela was somewhat frightening at times.

“What is it, Reyes?” She asked, her voice already a hint sharp, and worried. She could see the guilt in his eyes. Slowly, Gabriel sat down too, in a seat across from her, out of arm's reach, at least.

“On my last mission I noticed something. Something certain. It wasn't perfect and it didn't do a lot but-”

“ _Spit it out, Reyes._ ” She always used his last name when she was getting exhausted with him. Gabriel wanted to crawl under the lab table and hide.

“Do you remember... Maybe a year ago, when I went on that mission and there was the... Incident... With the Talon soldiers?”

“You mean... When you were starving, and you _consumed_ those men and framed _Moira_ for it?”

Apparently she'd heard the details of the mission at some point.

“...Yes. _That_. I, ah... I think the nanites have begun to do that more regularly.”

“What?” Surprise fled across the woman's face in seconds. “What do you mean? I haven't heard about any instances-”

“N-No! I mean. There haven't really been any... Instances like that. It's just that I have noticed some of my injuries beginning to heal in the middle of battle, even when no one's dead. Even Jesse seemed drained when I dueled him those months ago. I thought it was just a fluke then... But when I was fighting with the Harvestman, I saw it, Angela. And it wasn't off of the dead Champion... It was off of it- the beast. The living thing. I've seen it in other fights, too, off of normal people. I think my nanites have changed again... Remember when you did that test.. With the uh,” what was the term she had used back then? “ _Dead flesh?_ You said that my nanites found it easier to feed off of dead flesh than living flesh. What if that was no longer the case?”

“It doesn't make sense for it _not_ to be, Gabriel... But you are suggesting they're showing preferential treatment to living flesh, then?”

“ _I mean I guess?_ ” He wasn't a doctor. How the hell would he know?

“When does this happen? And to whom?”

“... I...” Gabe stammered slightly. “Anyone I fight. Anyone. As I said it seemed to happen to Jesse...”

Angela gave a thoughtful tut with her tongue as she looked down.

“That is potentially alarming, Gabriel. I am sure you understand why. We can't have you feeding off of our team here at Overwatch.”

“It didn't do it passively. Only when I was in combat. Only to people I was _actively_ facing, Angela. It hasn't ever happened to Jack, or to Jaelen or any of the other people I'm regularly around.”

“... Then for the time being, I don't want you dueling with anyone on the base... That includes anything that your body might see as...” she coughs, “ _a threat._ ” In no uncertain terms, she was telling him to take it _easy_ with Jack, which might be a struggle in and of itself. “At any rate, this cure would make that concern totally null and void... However...” The woman paused, and sagged some where she sat. “I still have to air caution, Gabriel. You have been this way now for _many, many_ years. Even if I gave you the cure, there is no guarantee you would feel like yourself. You might even feel weaker than you do right now. You might feel incapacitated. You've gotten so used to doing things a certain way with the body that you _do_ have right now that your motions and your reactions have become instinctual to you, they have become an integral part of who you are and how you function. Removing them would require a massive adjustment on your part, and perhaps just as many years to fully adapt to the changes... If your body _could..._ You are not a young man anymore, Gabriel-”

“ _That's nice_ ,”

“I'm not here to be nice. It's the truth. You don't feel it now because you have these abilities, but if I remove them, your age _will_ catch up with you, and you _will_ feel it. You have to ask yourself if that is something you're willing to handle, in light of the benefits gained.”

“Jack is getting along just fine, and he's almost as old as I am.”

“ _Jack_ hasn't spent years of his life with nanites supporting his system. He grew into his strengths naturally through the years. Yours were forced into you during SEP, and later, with Moira. I cannot guarantee that your body will adapt just as well to the changes... Most importantly, this process _cannot_ be undone, not only because once the process is started, it cannot be stopped, but because no one here can, or ever would dare to attempt the process of reverting you to how you are now. The way it was achieved was unethical, and we will _not_ be attempting any sort of recreation, even if we did know _exactly_ how it was done, which we don't. We know the contributions Moira had, it's true... But as for the nanites themselves? Their origin and design? That... That, we don't know. That secret died with SEP, along with a slew of other files that were lost in that... Incident. Anyway... I am sorry if this has ruined your night-”

“Not at all, Angela,” Gabe said moving to stand finally, a softer smile on his lips. He was relieved, even though he knew he had much to think about, knowing that he _could_ at least choose the option. “Thank you for this. Really. I mean it. I have been wanting this for... Longer than I realized I wanted it. I...” He could remember Jack, just a few months ago, saying how he had almost come to _miss_ this. And the arms. Gabriel had no doubts that there were parts of this form that Jack liked. “I need to give it a lot of thought.”   
The doctor stood too, offering him a small smile.

“Good. For the time being, I'll be keeping this quiet between just a few of us. You would do well to do the same. If the UN finds out that we have this, as you said, they will try to force our hand... But I have always been of the belief that people should have the right to say what does or doesn't happen to their own bodies. This is your choice, Gabriel, as it affects you and your well-being. Only _you_ know how you will cope with this. I'm going to give you time to think about it, but I will expect an answer, eventually. Go and enjoy the rest of the party, for now.”

“You're not coming back, yourself?” he asked, and she almost giggled. “I am putting this away, then meeting Genji.” She didn't say for what, and he just didn't ask. Instead, he smirked just slightly and turned away.

Perhaps it was the prospect of possibly losing his abilities that made Gabriel wraith his way back to the party, where everyone was already happily tipsy and three quarters through another game. Gabriel lets the rest of the night go uninterrupted, allowing the warmth of the season make him feel at home, along with the knowledge that... Quite possibly, he could be human again.

He wants to tell Jack immediately, but resists the urge that night, allowing himself to give into Jack thoroughly, and fully, as what he at least currently was... Reaper. He knew that Jack enjoyed this at least somewhat. For the old Soldier, Reaper was like... A piece of forbidden fruit that belonged just to him. But Jackie had loved him in SEP too. That was where this all started, didn't it? When Gabriel was... Well. Before Reaper was obvious, anyway. Before wraithing, and the extra arms, and teleportation. Jack had loved him then, but how would he take this news?

Two days later, Gabriel was bursting at the seams to talk about it, but he knew that telling the blonde was a bad idea.

“You gonna wipe that marble-stare off your fuckin' mug or what, Gabi?” Jaelen was just as colorful as her language in training gear. It was flattering on the melee fighter, but it did not suit her style, not even one bit. Form fitting polyester and stretch nylon with extra padding at all of the joints- she couldn't be bothered with the rubber cushioning shoes, so her own clunky pair of spiked high-top sneakers had taken their place... The only thing on her that looked like it actually belonged.

“W-What?” Gabriel asked, coming out of his daydream.

“You've had this middle-distance hundred-mile stare to the middle of nowhere for almost two days. If I didn't know better, I'd think you're high. What the hell's goin' on? You got somethin' going on?”

“I always have something going on,” he remarked gruffly as he pushed up on the weight machine he was at, sitting across from her. His gear was... Significantly less of an eyesore, all black, with slightly less spandex seeming material. A damp towel sat across his shoulders, catching anything that might fall.

“ _Morn' usual, you ass,_ ” She pressed, and Gabriel sighed.

“Come on,” he utters, finally caving. Whatever he's going to tell her, he can't do it here. “Let's get some of that coconut garbage you love so much.”

“Hey, don't be rude. You love that garbage too.”

He smirked, because she was right.

The woman was insightful. She knew him almost as well as Ana or McCree did now, and knew that the tone in his voice meant he was going to give her something... Just not in public, so to speak. They wandered back towards his quarters, where she rarely lingered. Jaelen didn't seem to like being in rooms like this, perhaps because there were no real windows, and she was used to open air. Hell, she was hardly ever in her own room. More than once, Gabe had caught her passed out in the envirodomes, soaking up the sun. Needless to say, she seemed restless when they first arrived in his room. When he pressed the button to lock the room, her eyes widened, immediately aware that whatever he had to say was important, not for other ears.

“Well ain't I a lucky bean,” she mused, leaning back against the minibar in the back of the room, arms crossed- coconut smoothie in one hand. Gabriel set is own down on and end table and promptly sat on the couch, not exactly facing her. “What's the deal, boss?” She asked.

“Something's happened.”

“What's happened?” She droned, as if she was providing the 'knock-knock' to a terrible knock-knock joke.

“Angela has found a cure for me.”

The mirth and amusement on Jaelen's face drained away.

“She... Found your cure.” The way she echoed him made it clear she struggled to understand. “What do you mean? How? How does it work? Cure for...?” She had abruptly rushed over and plopped onto the couch beside him, looking at him despite that his eyes were on the empty fireplace before him.

“Everything. It'd fix everything, Jaelen. It would remove all of it. The smoke. The nanites. The need to feed. The ghosting- even these,” He said, gesturing up at his eyes, where the red flecks exposed him for what he was.

About then, a small smoke-bean like critter seemed to roll out of one of the other rooms, summoned like a cat hearing the sound of its owner's voice. It rolled up to Gabriel's feet and opened its bright red eyes up to him, all but begging to be picked up. It was only one of the two that Jack had come to keep as pets since the incident that had created them in the first place. Jaelen did her best not to be distracted by it, but it was clearly the first time she'd seen any of the three up close- the other had become a resident of the science lab, which she never had any reason to visit. It occurred to Gabriel then that Angela's cure would quite literally eat these little creatures alive. The thought made him shudder, and he reluctantly picked the bean up to let it sit in his lap. It curled up at once.

“You're sayin' it would remove your abilities... An' your anti-aging.”

“Yes.”

“You'd be 'human' again, ey?”

“Something like that.”

“Is that what you want?”

Gabriel glanced over at her finally, as if... That was a strange question to ask. Of course he wanted it. It was what he had needed for a long time. It was the root of all his problems. Removing it would allow him to move on.

This was what he wanted.

 

 _Wasn't it?_  
  
“Well I mean. Yeah. Of course it is. It would make things a lot easier.”

“Would it?”

“Angela says they could treat me with normal medicines. They wouldn't have to worry about a lot of things regarding my nanites. They wouldn't have to do any more tests or them, or concern themselves over whether or not they're dangerous.”

“... Gabriel,” Jaelen said, her voice softly- it was the first time she seemed serious to him in a long time. Since they talked about The Queen, really, “The way I see it now, you can't die. They treat you with one thing- feeding- and you're better. What's easier than that?”

“It's more than just physical, Jaelen,” Gabe replies. “I've been this way for a while. I have always hated what they did to me. If I stay like this, I'm going to have to watch everyone I love die around me as they age and I don't.”

“We're in a war, Gabi. We might have to watch them die anyway.”

This made Gabe bristle slightly.

“Don't you ever regret having omnic prosthetics put in, Jaelen? Doesn't it sometimes make you feel like less of a person, and more of... of a _thing?_ ”

The redhead looked down and sighed. Slowly, she leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder in a comforting way. “I did for a while, Gabriel. For a while, I hated every bit of the humanity I felt like I'd lost. I didn't want to be part machine... But you know what I regret more?” This time, her hazel eyes focused on him, and she seemed fierce. “I regret that I spent years in cryo, paid for by people I had abandoned when I was just a kid. People who loved me despite the mess I was. People who were willing to give almost everythin' they had to make sure I was still alive. I regret that I didn't spend the time with them that I had- and what did I do with that, Gabi? What'd I do with my newfound gifts? I went and worked for The Queen. I pledged my loyalty and care to that bitch who didn't give a fuck about me. I made her my family, after havin' made my own suffer for years without me. And I think, every day, that if maybe I'd been more honest about who and what I was, instead of runnin' away and tryin' to turn myself into something else, that just maybe they'd still be alive, I'd still be human, and we'd all be happy and alive somewhere else. But that ain't what happened, is it? No. So now? Now I make use of the gifts they gave me to try and make this world better. I'm not going to wear these scars as a badge of shame, Gabriel. Sure, I did a lot of bad with 'em... But that was _my choice._ An' this right here is my choice too... Being here. Trying to be a hero. It was your choice too. Now you're gonna ask yourself if the weapons you've got are the reason you got here?”

She shook her head gently, continuing “Sometimes medicine isn't the answer, Gabi. Your gifts ain't the problem. They can be the solution- if you want them to. They kept you alive long enough to get you here... And I think that mean's something.”

Jaelen was right. At least, in that respect. It was certainly a perspective that few others seemed to share. Angela, he thought, might have wanted him cured if only because she knew so little about his condition as compared to what she knew about everyone else... And perhaps she was not as obsessed with it as Moira had been when she turned him into this.  
Still, the idea of watching others around him die... While he lived, after all he had done... Seemed unfair- not only to himself, but to everyone whose lives and families had had destroyed by things as “small” as feeding. Every life he'd taken just to feed, as Reaper, had been an innocent person until just very recently. Sure, some were from wars, but for the last several years of his employ at Talon, he had ruined hundreds of lives... Lives of people who never asked to be in this war, or involved in any fashion. People who he knew would always, justly, desire him to be dead. And didn't they deserve that, too? To eventually be able to watch him die and know that their loved ones had been avenged, in one way or another?

_Why did he feel so wrong for wanting to stay alive, then?_

_Could he ever do so much good in the world to outdo what damage he'd done?_

Some would argue he already had. Some would argue, no amount of good he could do would ever be enough to forgive him for his crimes. Some would, and did, still say he should have starved to death in Alcatraz.

Others said that he's the reason their loved ones didn't die in the massive explosion months ago.

Everyone was divided, and so was Gabriel himself.

 

Eventually, he had to talk to Jack. Angela had wanted him to keep this between them... But Jack was more than just a business associate and a close friend. He was more than _just_ a boyfriend. He was a piece of Gabriel- his closest, most absolute partner. And he would not forgive Gabriel for going ahead with it if he didn't at least talk to him about it first.

So later that night, Gabriel decided to cave, despite Angela's warnings. He was waiting in Jack's room for the man after he had finished with his own people for the day, and Gabriel was sitting on his couch, idly combing through his beard in a fidgety nature while he waited for the soldier to arrive. It felt like hours, but eventually, Jack did turn in, as expected. Gabe heard the door unlock and seconds later, open with a small rush of hallway air. At once, his attention twisted that way and his eyes locked on the man as he arrived. Jack's room was a lot like his- most of the rooms were structurally identical, but Jack's were in slightly brighter, warmer colors- nothing overly remarkable, and certainly not distracting from the Soldier himself.

“Hey,” Jack said. “Went to your room first- figured you'd be here when I didn't see you...” The man took off his jacket and draped it over a chair at the table behind the couch, and came up to Gabe, leaning over the back of it and wrapping his arms around him, nose gently pushing into the side of Gabe's cheek in a faint cuddle of affection. Gabe smiled and pressed his lips to Jack's cheek, a fleeting but warm thing that prefaced his urgent, almost nervous tone.

“We need to talk,” he said softly, trying his best not to alarm the man. Against his cheek, he felt the small heat wave of Jack's sigh, the kind of sound that meant he wasn't sure he _wanted_ to talk right now. He was tired from a long day of training with some of his people, and running another group through another mission somewhere else in the world. The last thing Jack wanted was a 'talk'. His body needed some kind of relief that only Gabriel could give him.

Stepping out of his shoes, he moved around the side of the couch and sat down next to Gabe, looking expectantly towards him, brows raised as he motioned Gabriel to go ahead. Yet, even this strained gesture seemed different somehow, at least to Gabe. Some of the creases on Jack's face seemed lessened than they were before. Perhaps having more time between them had eased some of the stress from his face? Gabriel wouldn't dwell on it for now. “Well?” Jack prosed, seeming to give Gabe the go ahead, as at the moment, Reyes was just... Staring at him.

“Right,” Gabe stumbled over his words and quickly reminded himself what he had to say. It was hard, but he managed. “So... This is personal. It can't go anywhere. Alright?”

“... Right, okay,” Jack uttered, sensing the seriousness in the talk they were about to have, forcing away the Soldier's more intimate desires for the moment.

Gabriel hesitated. He felt the weight of what he had to say on his shoulders. Jack's opinion was the most important one here. He had known him the longest, and he loved Gabriel the _most._

Sucking in a nervous breath, Gabe composed himself. _Breathe._

 

“Angela thinks she may have found my cure, Jack.”

 

He saw Jack's eyes pop wide at once, breathless, wordless mouth parted open, head slightly tilted as if unsure he'd heard Gabriel correctly.. But the look in Reaper's eyes suggested that he had.

“W-What do you mean? Cure?” If the topic wasn't so sensitive, Gabe might have laughed at how similarly they had both responded to the same news. Jack sounded nervous, and slightly scared.

“I mean that Angela has devised a sort of nanite that would go in and... Effectively kill mine, and they would undo the damage Moira did to me- anything she did, they can undo. They can take it all back. They can take it all the way back to SEP. It would leave me as I was when you and I met. Maybe even before we met.”

“But... What about... The other things? The healing, the strength-”

“Those aren't related to the nanites, Jack. It's why you have them, but not the smoke I have. This would-”

“- _Effectively kill Reaper,_ ” Jack interrupted at once, brows widening. Gabe couldn't tell if he was happy, sad or shocked. Maybe all three? It wasn't the response he expected.

“It would undo everything Moira did, Jack. It wouldn't undo what I did with those abilities, and it would remove the possibility of me ever doing them again.”

“I... Yeah.” Jack looked away slightly, “I mean. It's your body, Gabe. Your decision. You've been this way for a while.” Gabriel slowly reached over, sliding his hand into Jack's entwining their fingers, offering some sort of support, despite that it really ought to be the other way around.

“Yes, but this wont just affect me. You're in this too. We have no idea how exactly this will change me. It will make me who I was when we met... Just a bloodthirsty jarhead looking for vengeance,” he tried to tease about it, but Jack didn't take to the joke, his lips remaining in a small, concerned line, so Gabe's smile faded. “I'd be able to eat and drink like normal. I could be like you knew me.” He hoped that this would be comforting... Yet, he knew he needed to be more open about the reality of it. So, after a moment, he continued. “It has a cost, though, Jackie. It will also make me more vulnerable to attacks- like any other SEP Soldier. But if I do it, Angela and all the other doctors can heal me with normal, traditional means. I wouldn't have to rely on death to feed, or... Or hurting anyone who's alive, either. I could recover, and go back to being human with you, Jack. I could grow old with you. I don't know if either of us are going to grow old in this war, but-”

This statement made Jack stop and look at him, deeply, taken aback by the implication sitting there in Gabe's words, obliviously to the man who had spoken them. _I could grow old with you... Plan for the future._ Gabriel was... Ready. He was _ready._ Jack smiled broadly, eyes glassing over.

“Oh hell,” Gabe said, seeing the look in his eyes, and Jack leaned in abruptly, holding Gabriel close to him, letting the weight of those words sink into memory. For a long moment the two were quiet, Gabriel silently hoping he hadn't overdone it with the sappy remarks, oblivious to Jack's internal plans, as it were. Jack very seriously wanted to grow old with Gabriel- he still had the ring from all those years ago, just waiting to be used, not that Gabe knew. But... here and now was definitely not how Jack planned this to go. No, he'd make a proper day and time. He had to.

Gabriel couldn't grow old with him as Reaper, however... Did he really want to condemn Gabe to watching him grow old and die? Perhaps Angela's serum would help more than it was seeming to at the moment... Jack hadn't noticed _any_ differences in light of the first dose she had given him. Katie had insisted it would work... In time. No need to get Gabe's hopes up if it didn't. And what if Gabe chose to stay Reaper? What then? Did he still want to get married knowing that? But Gabe could go back to being human... And being...

 _...Vulnerable._ The word tasted like raw salt on Jack's tongue. The idea of anything terrible happening to Gabe after destroying the nanites that had kept him alive for years sickened him. But... It wasn't his call to make, and there were just as many positives to removing the nanites, too.

 

“Well come on,” Gabe interrupted the man's thoughts. “You can't just give me a look like that and then stare into the great beyond forever, Jackie. It's not a decision I have to make tonight,” the man reminded, hand reaching up and letting his fingers trace along the underside of Jack's chin. He tilted it up to him, and met the man's lips with a deep kiss that swept Jack's thoughts away entirely. Leaning further into the wraith, he allowed his legs to slide over Gabriel's lap, and pulled himself up into it. Obviously, Gabriel didn't mind the intrusion, and comfortably leaned back, hands immediately falling to Jack's thighs as he looked up at the man. Jack said nothing. He didn't want to dwell on what Gabe or gain or lose by accepting Angela's cure. At least not right now. His day had been separately trying from the wraith's own, and all he wanted right now was a little physical reaffirmation that he was _still alive._

In fact, it would be pretty nice if _he_ felt vulnerable right about now. Jack _wanted_ control taken away from him, if even just for a little while, he wanted someone else to tell him what to do, rather than have to decide for himself. Gabriel was, and had always been, amazingly skilled at achieving that. The Soldier's eyes must have conveyed what he wanted by the way they half-lidded and Gabriel's red-flecked eyes swept over him in a way that seemed to steal away his soul to somewhere else. Then, the faintest of grinds against the man's lap was all it took to put that interested, hungry look in the wraith's eyes. He smirked. It was a minuscule smile, but Jack wanted to melt beneath it. Had he already not been straddling Reyes, he might have come to his knees just then. There was little doubt in his mind that he would be there sooner or later.

“ _What's on your mind, Jackie?_ ” Few would have guessed that Reaper's voice, rough and broken as it was, could sound so good coming out of scarred lips... Well. Maybe more than a few. Jack had a front row seat to it, and it made him grind downward a little more slowly into the man. He did not reply. The smirk faded slowly and eyes lecherously combed over him, as if seeing right through the clothing he wore- a faded top, signature 76 jacket, and dark pants and belt. Soldier felt young right about now. He felt like he was still sitting on that crummy couch in SEP while his Captain slowly got a hold of him. Those hands felt just the same as they crept upwards from his thighs to his belt, and soon, the shirt. Claws tucked into the fabric of the hem and tugged it up, out from his pants, allowing them to get at the Soldier's skin. The moment cooler flesh touched him, Jack's eyes closed and he exhaled, posture sagging slightly. Gabriel leaned forward slightly as his fingers trailed upwards. His broken whisper was like a taunt. “ _I asked you a question, Morrison._ ”

Oh, Gabriel seemed to know exactly what was on his mind, and he was playing into it with ease. Yet still, Jack did not respond. Instead, a small, mischievous smile found its way onto his lips, and Gabe couldn't help the way his own echoed the gesture when he saw it. “ _Playing difficult, are you? Not sure that's wise, Soldier._ ” He warned, but he was now leaning so close that Jack could feel Reaper's breath on his ear, the ghosting of his lips across the flesh there, making him shudder in response. But the claws came higher still, plucking at the skin here and there, tracing and teasing over the Soldier's muscle. It was when the side of his thumb finally found Jack's nipple that the soldier let out a small gasp and his cheeks flushed hotly. Eyes closed and he looked away, thighs clamping somewhat more tightly on the Reaper beneath him. A dark, haunting laugh rolled out of Gabriel, so ominously deep that it reverberated into Jack's chest by how close they had become.

The shirt had been hiked up higher, and higher still until that nipple was exposed. He didn't expect the sudden way that Gabriel captured it in his mouth, but he should have, by the possessive, dominant way that the wraith's right arm had come around his lower back, dragging him forcefully forward into him and down against his hips. This allowed Jack a feel of the hard, familiar bulge brushing up against him, taunting him from beneath. Jack wanted to moan... But he refused, and remained tight-lipped despite that Gabriel _adored_ it any time he made any kind of noise. That was part of the game, wasn't it? Reaper made no effort to keep himself quiet as he pressed into Jack's flesh, teasing the nipple with his tongue, occasionally blowing cold air across the top of it just to stimulate the man and make it tense up. When this, too, failed to pull a sound out of the Soldier, his patience began to wane, just slightly. “ _Are you sure this is the game you want to play, Morrison?_ ” It was the only warning the man was going to get.

Again. No reply.

Gabriel's eyes searched Jack's, those blue eyes defiant, playful... And yet, begging for it.

Had Jack forgotten so easily that tying people up and torturing them for hours was quite literally his job at _multiple_ points throughout Gabriel's career?

_No. No, Jack had not forgotten. Not one bit._

 

Gabe hardly wasted time after that, a dark look coming into his eye as he smiled, this time more widely than before, and quite literally evaporated from beneath the Soldier only to abruptly appear behind him. When he did, his own shirt was gone, and there was not two, but four arms, all to assist in stripping every scrap of clothing away from the Soldier, who was now merely on his knees, facing the back of the couch. He did glance back of course as the first of the talons curled around the hem of his Jacket and slid it off, if a bit roughly. The sound of it hitting the floor was ominously reminiscent of those heated, young days in SEP.

How much time had they wasted, fighting one another, Jack wondered?

Gabriel did not allow him a moment to dwell on such a melancholy thought. _This was now. They had now, and he wasn't about to let the Soldier's mind drift elsewhere._ This was punctuated by the way that one of those very solid clawed hands came up and slid into the turf of Jack's hair, tightening slowly until the Soldier's head came back, and he felt Gabriel's lips trailing down the side of his jawline and onto his neck. The other hands, all the while, gently clawing at buttons, zippers and hems to get the man beneath him undressed. It was a slow foreplay, one that Jack expected would take plenty of time. Gabriel had always been a master of tormenting him. It seemed, Reaper was no different, and yet Jack could _feel_ the difference in him at least slightly. Gabriel _had_ changed with all that had been done to him. He had become something else entirely, and his human mind had changed to adapt with it. Again, the old soldier felt young, new, and vulnerable. He couldn't get enough of the monster behind him.

Before long, the sound of his shoes hitting the floor echoed in his ears, and his pants and underwear with them. The room wasn't exceptionally warm, but Reaper was colder than one would expect from most people. It was hard to tell if the shudder Jack felt roll down his spine was from fear, lust, or the fresh gust of air against his backside. With lips, and then teeth on his neck, his eyes fell closed, head resting back on Gabriel's shoulder as hand released his hair and fell instead to the exposed lump of his neck, tightening just slightly. A breath shuddered out of him, but he refused to give Reaper what he wanted so easily. Two more hands came to his chest, teasing at the already stiffened nipples and tracing down over his abdomen, almost ticklish in a way, but not that he'd reveal to Gabe. The last of the four hands made its way downward on his spine, sliding over one firm cheek before spreading it slightly away from the other. This time, it was definitely the rush of air that made Jack gasp. One finger, and then two, dipped into the seam between the two cheeks, grazing just barely over the tight opening, making him clench. And he could feel the claws, too, there was no avoiding those, but Gabriel was especially careful- Jack could guess that Reaper had gotten quite used to having them for years now. He knew how to be careful, and gentle, so Jack wasn't _too_ afraid.

Gabriel knew that the feel of the claws there would make the man nervous anyway. It would make almost anyone nervous- male or female. That was the intention. But, delicately, the ball of his fingers rolled over the opening, moving in a circular motion, opening him just slightly now and then. He felt Jack's skin tremble just barely beneath his touch as he did so, teasing him open a little more, a little more strongly, knowing full well that he couldn't exactly get in without lubricant. And yet, Gabe was making no effort to move to the bed, or anywhere near it.

That was itself a little frightening to Jack, because it meant that Reaper had no _actual_ intention of penetrating him... And at the moment, his body was making it obvious that that was exactly what he wanted Gabe to do. Cock stood at attention, ignored between his legs as he knelt on the couch, elbows now propped up on the back of it, head still back, Gabe's chest just barely touching his spine.

One of those hands on his chest then dared to slip down until it reached his navel, and slowed. It did not stop, however, even when it reached the base of Jack's eager length. Instead it strayed off to the side to one of his thighs in a way that made the Soldier groan with dismay. He hadn't even realized how much tension Gabriel had already built up in his chest, to want such a touch so quickly.

_He did it effortlessly._

The groan was music to Gabriel's ears, of course. Reaper's dark, tempting laughter could be heard chuckling out of him, rolling in a wave of black fog from his lips onto Jack's neck.

“ _Too easy_.”

This caused blue eyes to open sharply, teeth grating as he steeled his resolve, determined not to give in so easily. He had put up with Reaper's _actual_ torture. And, he'd been through a lot of hell in his day, surely, a little sexual tension was something he could handle.

_Right?_

That hand massaged at his flesh, sometimes lightening up and teasing the tips of somewhat sharp fingernails against him. Sometimes, Reaper pressed just enough to make him flinch. Rarely, the side of his thumb or some _obscure_ part of Gabe's hand would just barely ghost across the surface of Jack's throbbing cock, making it twitch eagerly. Now and then, the tips of his fingers would tease over the sac, sensitive as it was, making the Soldier clench up all the more. Jack's eyes closed, and he began to forget the world around them.

For at least a few moments, he was back in SEP, a rookie in the hands of his Captain, who knew how to twist him in all the right ways. And, Reaper was fine with letting him enjoy that idea- for now.

One of the ghostly hands focused in on a nipple, teasing it with a pinch that tightened until Jack gasped, brows knitting on his forehead. A bead of precum fell from his still-ignored cock, which had begun to ache with fervor.

 

Then Gabriel's hips pressed forward.

Perhaps shockingly, Jack discovered that Reaper's pants were still _on_. He hadn't even taken the pants off yet, or even bothered to undo them, forcing the cold metal belt buckle up against Jack's ass in a way that made him flinch and then ease forward into the couch, away from the metal. But, Gabriel wasn't having that, no. Instead, he roughly gripped the man's shoulder with one free hand and jerked him back, forcing his clothed bulge right between the soldier's cheeks, his lips whispering into the man's ear again.

“ _You can't escape me, Jackie. I can be everywhere, remember?_ ” And it seemed he could. Reaper was a ghost in every myth spread around about him, and with the way he could move, it very well seemed like it was true. As if to emphasize such a thing, Jack felt a faint chill roll over him as Gabe's smoke enveloped him like a creeping fog. It crawled over his shoulders and around his sided, thick enough to cloud his vision and carry him seemingly into the abyss. He couldn't avoid the faint scent of gunpowder, leather and blood that Reaper had become known for, and now, he inhaled it with every breath. It became hard to truly track where exactly the wraith's hands went, as the smoke itself seemed to almost become corporeal at points, before dissipating again. Jack couldn't help but to feel almost as though he was being consumed by some great, indomitable serpent. A devil with whom he was completely, irrevocably enamored. He felt hands teasing at his jaw as smoke curled around his neck and between his thighs, all the while teasing at his opening without quite giving him exactly what he wanted. Yet there it was again, that clothed, throbbing member just right up against him, teasing him with what Gabriel refused to give despite that he too obviously, direly wanted this.

 

Then there was something Jack hadn't expected... The sound of metal and the chilling item between them was removed, and then, the hand around his neck was _replaced_ by the familiar leather. Jack gasped at first as he was yanked up, away from the couch for a moment, struggling for the slightest moment until Reaper loosened the makeshift leash, alleviating Jack's budding terror.

“ _Relax, farm boy. I'm not going to hurt you in any way you won't like,_ ” Reaper purred into his ear. Jack groaned faintly, brows pinching as the pressure on his throat was just enough to discourage him from speaking. Slowly, Reaper slid to a stand behind him, still holding the other end of the belt, giving it a slow, deliberate tug to lead Jack on. The soldier came off the bed and followed that leading hand backwards, out of the room towards the bedroom. Jack almost immediately headed for the bed, but Gabriel stopped him just before he reached it, hand tightening on the belt and urging him downwards onto his knees.

Then, the wraith slipped around him so that he was in front of him, and sat down on the bed, looking down at the Soldier on his knees. Gabriel's eyes were glowing- that familiar red whenever he wraithed. It would seem that he was keeping them so, just to put fear into the Soldier, which they both enjoyed. With a foot, Gabe nudged Jack's legs apart and slid his leg forward until the man's sack and slightly softened cock rested right up against it. It was both an alluring, and yet terrifying sensation. The leash was again tugged forward, and one of Gabriel's four hands landed on the back of Jack's head, pressing him closer to the clothed cock.

“ _Get me off,_ ” Gabe commanded.

It was not a question, nor a request.

A command.

 

A heavy, lustful shudder rolled through Jack's chest. The soldier's rough hands slid up Gabe's thighs, loosing his boots somewhat as he did, but not yet removing them- almost avoiding the one between his legs should he accidentally trigger any reflexive kicks. Even just feeling the muscle beneath Gabe's skin was enough to make him hard again. He didn't usually get to be _this close_ to the man's hips. Now, he was getting a front row seat _just_ like in SEP. Jack couldn't help but remember the first blowjob he had given Gabriel- that dreadful but amazing night that had set his soul on fire and yet, left him wanting as the Captain had sent him _back_ to his quarters unsatisfied.

Surely, Reyes wasn't cruel enough to do that twice... Was he?

The small, vaguely horrifying smile on Gabe's lips wasn't promising, but it made Jack _crave_ him more than he realized he could. Not one to hesitate, his hands finally reached up to the hem of his pants and undid the button, and the zipper followed. It was seconds before Reaper's familiar cock was revealed, thick waiting. The hand on the back of Jack's head urged him further, and finally he leaned in and obeyed. His lips grazed over the tip of the man, kissing just barely before sliding down onto the side, easing into it.

He caught himself moaning into it, but made no effort to restrain himself. The feel of Gabe's flesh throbbing between his lips and across his tongue was a welcome one. He needed more. A familiar ache restored itself in his groin, and Gabe's leg nudged slightly into it. Jack pressed just a little into the man's shin, needing it, but feeling slightly humiliated by it. That was exactly what Reaper wanted. His mouth finally opened a bit more around the tip and descended, taking him in deep until the back of his throat felt the kiss of Gabriel's tip.

The Reaper struggled to hold back a groan of pleasure, but Jack still heard the heavy sigh that fell out of him- he felt the breath on the back of his neck, and the tightening grip on the back of his head. Beneath his hands, Reaper's thighs started to tense up. Jack couldn't help but to smile at the man's efforts to appear completely unfazed, but his enjoyment was obvious. The Soldier's head began to bob.

Lips curled around the shaft and tongue pressed up against the underside of it, pressing into the muscle, making sure to hit across all of the sensitive nerves each time he rose only to drop again. His eyes had closed as he gave himself into the command, hands tightening on said thighs, and sometimes drifting a little higher to grasp Gabe's hips.

The leash around his throat was the guiding hand to how quickly Gabe wanted him to go, occasionally tugging downward as the man sought after a particular nerve to be hit again, and again. Occasionally, the length of him forced Jack to suppress a gag, and even that tightening up of muscle seemed to pleasure the Reaper beneath him. Hand on the back of his head urged down too, tangling into the hair and drawing him up with the rhythm. Jack made a deliberate show of pleasuring, almost worshiping every inch of the man's now trembling cock. Now and then, he was rewarded with another drop of precum. As it happened, his pace quickened.

Gabriel let the minutes slip by, even shoving off his climax to make it take longer, knowing that each moment Jack spent doing this, the more he would want him when it was over. At least, that was the plan. Jack had gotten _very_ good at this over the years, and Reaper was struggling to hold off any longer. His hips began to buck just slightly up into the man's ministrations, smoke rolling off of his exposed torso in small waves, giving away his arousal as if it wasn't blatantly obvious.

It felt like an hour that he'd been holding off before he finally relented, despite it only having been about half that. He was close, and at this point, Jack had waited about as long as he could. His jaw was killing him, and he wanted more. Gabriel's legs began to shudder beneath his hands. Cock began to jerk in the Soldier's mouth, and Jack knew at once to swallow him deep to prevent the mess.

Gabriel couldn't contain the moan as he came, as usual, coming out as more of a growl than any real moan. His brows knitted tightly together and his hand tightened almost painfully in Jack's hair, as if preventing him from backing off... But there was no need for that. Jack took everything he offered, swallowing hard as he raised up and off of him, cleaning him off in the process. His eyes lifted back up to Gabriel finally, as if to ask _what now?_

Panting and spent, the Reaper looked down into those blue eyes, his own still a pair of burning red stars in his skull. He needed a minute, all the same. Even porn stars needed a break between rounds, if a short one. Gabe tugged the belt up, bringing Jack up to his level and took him into a deep kiss, a passionate one. He could taste himself on Jack, and it made him smile softly before he exhaled and moved to stand, leaving Jack down slightly. His head canted to the bed.

“ _Work yourself while I clean up. I'm not going to be easy on you. You'd better be ready by the time I am.”_ He ghosted and turned away, turning towards the bathroom and disappearing within.

 

Jack waited until he heard the shower turn on before crawling onto the bed. Finally, he was able to offer a little pleasure to his own length, but he knew better than to finish without Gabe. Hand stroked over himself slowly, almost painfully, the way that Gabe would have. But, he knew what to expect next. Blue eyes twisted towards the end table beside the bed and a hand reached for the lubricant in the drawer. Releasing himself for just a moment, he poured a liberal amount onto the tips of his fingers and returned them to the hole Gabe had been teasing earlier.

Feeling any touch there at all was amazing right now, even if it was his own. He had been craving Gabriel for most of the day, and tonight was the perfect distraction from the news that had been dropped on him. The tip of one finger circled the outside just enough to lubricate it, before daring to dip inside. His teeth clamped down on his bottom lip to try and silence himself- he didn't want Gabriel to hear him enjoying himself like this. It made him feel weak, in a way. His eyes closed, and he dipped a bit deeper, and further still, until a faint moan slipped passed his lips.

So did a laugh.

But not from Jack.

 

The shower had apparently stopped a minute or two prior, and he'd been unknowingly putting on a show for a now very nude, aroused, wet Reaper, fresh from the shower.

Jack's eyes popped open, and he felt his cheeks grow hot with an immediate blush. He stopped, of course, and moved back slightly on the bed, his back pressing into the pillows.

“ _Oh, don't stop on my account,_ ” Gabe said, his body evaporating at once before appearing directly over him, his weight sinking into the bed as he crawled forward and pressed his forehead into Jack's. His eyes bore into those blues.

“ _Continue,_ ” He commanded.

Jack obeyed, his willpower to resist was lost. He needed this, and Gabe was enjoying this. That alone was enough to make him keep going. Now and then, a drop of water would roll down off of Gabe and land onto the pale Soldier with a small shock, making him flinch. Reaper began to stroke himself, readying himself for all the fun he was about to have with his Soldier. _No one elses. His._ He didn't need to be a hero to the world. He had already devoted so much of his life to it. To them. Many of them still didn't respect him for it. Jack had grown old doing it... For them.

 

Tonight, Jack belonged to Gabe, and to no one else.

 

Jack began to stammer beneath him, unable to get as deep as he wanted, especially not with Gabriel over him, breathing onto him and occasionally teasing his body with kisses or ethereal touches. Finally, Reaper had had enough of toying and teasing. He was on the verge of outright _consuming_ Jack before finally releasing himself and moving to sit upright, forcing himself between Jack's thighs.

“Keep quiet,” Reaper growled out another guttural command, and Jack quietly thought, _how?_

Still, he would try. Gabe shifted the man's hips so that he could get into him, thumbs spreading his cheeks slightly before angling himself into the pucker, causing Soldier's eyes to pinch shut. He knew there would be a moment of pain before the pleasure, and there was, at least until Gabe forced himself abruptly a bit deeper. His eyes wouldn't stay closed for long- Jack had to watch. He had to see what Gabriel was doing to him, and had done to him countless times before.

Reaper was seldom gentle, and though he did have the ability to be, there was none of that here. Not right now, anyway. As soon as he was in, he rode Jack hard. It was hard enough that Jack was finding the command to stay quiet nearly impossible, so Gabe dropped a hand onto his mouth, as if to aid him in it. However, Jack needed to breathe, his nose simply wasn't enough for the panting he needed to do, so a hand reached up, wrenching away Gabriel's hand and forcing it to land on the pillow beside his head. In response, Reaper came down onto that elbow and stole another deep, passionate kiss from Jack's lips, effectively muffling the moans that fell out of him with each piston of the wraith's hips.

 

Again, it felt like an hour, but neither of the two could really hold out that long after so much teasing. Still, it was longer than average- Gabriel had to prove he was still a Super Soldier, despite everything that had been done to him. _Some might say, because of everything that had been done to him._ The bed shook, and all of Jack's best efforts weren't enough to stop the louder moans from slipping into him as the wraith got into him again, and again. And when it ended, Reaper simply collapsed on top of the man, planting a few softer, almost gentle kisses onto his jawline, before rolling off of the Soldier and promptly passing out.

 

It was here, curled in Soldier's arms, that he dreamed again.

Not like before.

 

This was different.

 

Gabriel could tel almost instantly that this dream wasn't just the run of the mill, upside down, inside out acid trip that some dreams tended to be. It was foreign in his mind. It tasted like metal and smelled like fear. He wasn't sure how, or why those things made sense, but they did. This was almost alien to him- and yet... There was something... Familiar, about it.

 

~

 

The Overwatch base was always quiet at night. All of the humans went to bed except for a few patrols who kept watch around the perimeter or in the safety of the security rooms lined with monitors. Cameras quietly surveyed the exteriors, and the hours ticked on in silence, with nothing but the forest around them and its inhabitants to make any noise. _Inhabitants._ There was a hunger in it that it did not know or understand. A hunger that needed satisfied.

This body was not enough. It needed more.

This body was not food. It was the vehicle.

 

_The forest. He loved this forest._

 

_The forest would have food._

 

_Get to the forest._

 

The thoughts were his own, but like a voice. Gabriel moved to stand, sliding away from the blonde human nearby. They didn't rouse, and therefore, not a threat. He headed to the door and reached down, but something in his mind triggered. _Stop. Not like this. Can't go out like this. Humans will notice._ Clothing. Humans wore clothing. He couldn't just leave this room naked. Eyes scanned the floor and searched his mind, finding the clothes he wore the night before. It felt odd, but necessary. The clothes were on. The shirt was backwards but it didn't matter. All that mattered was the feed.

 

They left.

 

Out. Out into the hall. Down the hall and into the elevator... Up until the ground appeared. Out. Not the open. Avoid the open. Cameras. Watchers. Guards... Disappear.

Disappear.

 

They had never done it before... But something had changed. They were stronger now. Go. Disappear. Take him apart... Put him back together.

 

_Feed._

 

Gabriel watched in horror as they tried again and again. He felt a familiar pain rip through him. His scars opened and split. The skin fell away and the muscle twitched and fell. The bone was revealed. _Take him apart. Put him back together. No. He is waking up. Stop the pain. Stop._ And like that... The pain was gone. The split in his shoulder and side evaporated. His spine reconnected. His knees slid back into the proper position. They walked, and tried to disappear again.

Again, Gabriel felt skull-splitting pain.

 

This time, it woke him.

It woke him for real.

 

~

 

Gabriel jolted upright, causing Jack to startle and hold onto him. “Hey, hey!” he said softly. Gabriel was in a cold sweat, his eyes darting around. He was here, back in the Dolomites. Back on the base. Back to... Being a hero, sort of. “Are you alright?” Jack asked, leaning forward, and Gabriel sighed and flopped back onto his pillow.

“Just another fucking nightmare,” he rumbled, shaking his head.

“Omnics?” Jack asked, and Gabe shook his head.

“No... I don't think so... I'm going to have a drink and get some fresh air.” Gabe moved to stand, his legs slightly wobbly, and there was a phantom pain in his knee- probably just from a cramp or something, he thought.

“I'll come with you, Jack offered.”

“No- it's alright. You need to sleep... And take that belt off your neck. You might suffocate.”

Jack smirked at him. “Well I thought you were going to do it.”

“... Right. Get some sleep, Jack.” Gabriel slipped back into some clothes, deliberately avoiding anything like what he'd seen in the dream, and made his way out into the envirodomes- forgoing the drink for when he returned.

The dream had felt... Off. And he knew it.

Most of his dreams were war related... And this one... _Wasn't_ really. It wasn't even from his perspective... At least... Not really.

 

And the familiarity of it was haunting to him.

 

Stress, he decided. That had to be it.

 

 

“It seems to be functioning as normal,” her voice was monotone as only she could manage, genuine enthusiasm only ever showing its face when some unexpected result arrived in response to her experiments. Akande wasn't having any of those. This was little more than a doctor's visit as she sought to make sure the repairs from the explosion had gone over well. And they had. Now, little more than a few scars remained. “And I am assured that the next payment will be made...?”

“In time, O'Deorain. Be patient.”

Moira's lab here was only one of several. This one was the smaller of them, with dark grey walls, built far below ground of her original lab back in Oasis. It was true that that office had been given away, but no one knew about this place. At least, no one who would object to her working there. Akande seemed to prefer that she work here, now that all of Vishkar was under investigation and hemorrhaging workers. It would be better, he'd said, if they weren't all in one place. White lights hanging overhead made the tall walls feel monumental, despite being nothing extraordinary. Specimens sat on shelves in cages or plastic containers, and a large wall of books sat in the far corner of the rectangular room, some looking more ancient- almost ritualistic. Tools of any shape and size could be found in the glass drawers that made up her entirely glass counter. A vacant surgical table waited nearby, unused at the moment. A large chair sat in the middle of the room vaguely reminiscent of a dentist's chair, with a number of tools attached to machinery hanging from the ceiling. This was where she had done all of her own self testing- her oldest laboratory, a relic in and of itself. The chair itself... Occupied.

“I _have_ _been_ patient, Ogundimu. You said that funding would go uninterrupted-”

“And it has _not_ been interrupted. You asked for more. You didn't say when you needed it. I was kind in not asking you what it was _for_.”

 _Not that he would even remotely understand the keen inner workings of my mind even if I tried to explain it to him._ “It was kind of you,” she said instead, knowing better than to insult him. “But Talon seems stressed as of late. The council meetings have been somewhat... lacking... recently. You can't rationally blame me for my concern.”

“No. But I can blame you for your results,” He said, moving to stand out of the chair, rolling the sleeve down of his button-up shirt, obviously custom made, which Moira didn't miss. He had money- he just wasn't putting it up. Lately, less and less members had been coming to council meetings. Reaper was gone, Amelie was... More or less out of her mind, and Maximilien was growing increasingly scarce after his dealings with The Gilded Conclave. Moreover, their most recent invitee had not come to meet them for... Security reasons. An omnic. Doomfist rarely worked for them, but he insisted that this new contact would help them- and that he was _not_ part of whatever the conclave was planning. Moira knew nothing about the new contact. Not even his name. Doomfist had begun to share a lot less with her as his list of allies dwindled. If she wanted to keep getting funded, she would have to find a means to make herself indispensable to him.

“What if I were able to produce _better_ results, Akande?” She asked. The use of his first name always seemed to catch his attention more.

“You have said nothing about getting Reaper back since our last talk. Especially not after he destroyed your little pet in the Trash City.” Akande seemed to refuse to accept Junkertown as a legitimate city, let alone an ally. That was why Moira had been send there to negotiate with the junker queen- with a gift of said pet, and the possible promise of being able to rebuild said city.

“The heat destroyed it, actually. And a serious lack of... Ample food supply,” she remarked almost woefully. She could easily remember the footage that had come out shortly after its escape. The radiation in the country had crippled its natural immune defenses, and the heat had done the rest. When it was too weak to move, the Huntsman had eaten itself alive... Something that many of her new tests had suffered in the last year or so. “Anyway... I am suggesting something far more... Poetic,” she offered cryptically, her arms sliding together at the base of her spine.

“Poetic?” He echoed, sliding his blazer back on.

Moira smiled darkly, briefly.

 

“Gabriel left because we could not offer him what he wanted... You and I are both aware of what he's doing now. Who he's with.” She turned away and brought her attention to a small cage of mice she had been using to test a new serum on, waiting for him to speak.

 

“You're suggesting...” He asked, clearly growing impatient.

 

“Have you ever been fishing, Akande?” she asked abruptly. Off to the side of the cage, a carrot stick that had been soaking in a solution of her own design was picked up, and slid between the bars of the cage, holding onto its very end. Akande said nothing to the woman, watching as she seemed to taunt the creature within with the supposed treat.  
  
Despite being terrified of her, slowly, but surely, a mouse approached.

 

“I am told that all one needs is the _right_ technique...” The mouse, meanwhile, nibbled, only to abruptly recoil seconds later to convulse, twitching into stillness. It was only a minute or so before the body began to turn dark, and smoke. Brown eyes became red. Fur turned black. Claws grew into sharp, formidable weapons.

 

 

“... _and a tempting lure_.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading, those of you who have decided to come back to this fic. I promise that it IS still being worked on and that it hasn't been abandoned, but obviously real life comes first. I can't say exactly when the next chapter, as I'm still working through breathing issues, but I will make an effort to be more proactive.
> 
> You can follow me on twitter for instant updates if you like:  
> https://twitter.com/Trishields

**Author's Note:**

> WELP. THERE WE ARE! Thank you so much for inspiring me to make a sequel guys, this should prove to be a fun adventure for all of us. As always, let me know what you think in the comments and keep an eye out for the next chapter, which will be every two weeks!
> 
> If you find any typos or spelling errors, please let me know! ^^  
> Hope you enjoyed the read!


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